


Admittedly, I'm Hard to See

by EmberFluff



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23180245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmberFluff/pseuds/EmberFluff
Summary: The unlikely courtship between the undead equivalent of an outspoken game show host and a rather neurotic breather.
Relationships: Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/Original Character(s), Beetlejuice/Originial Female Character(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 91





	1. In Which a Stage is Set

It was a weird house.

There were the obvious architectural modifications that made the tri-level craftsman become a modernist nightmare, sure, but there was something else. A vibe, however trite the word had become lately. This aura of unsettling that washed over the place in waves. Even the oddly barren trees and dead grass reflected the “obviously haunted” house look it may or may not have been trying to go for.

Then again, knowing Lydia Deetz, it might have been _very_ intentional.

The aforementioned woman hopped out of the passenger side of the small u-haul truck, stretching her arms upward with a satisfying pop. Even though it had only been since the previous weekend since she had visited her old home, it still always felt like a new experience coming back to the house. Her stepmother was always rearranging the furniture or painting the walls some awful color scheme. Nothing she ever picked would ever be Pantone color of the year, so to speak. Because of Delia’s habit of switching design schemes on a dime, the house was always in a state of what the artsy woman called “new flux”.

Ever since the Maitlands had gone to their permanent home in the Neitherworld, Delia had been free to let her creative juices flow out into the rest of the house, not just the upstairs area they had allowed her to express herself upon.

Hearing the drive side door open and shut heavily, Lydia turned her attention back to her traveling companion, gesturing to the house in a “ta-da” motion.

“Well? Better in glorious technicolor right?” Lydia walked to the back of the truck to unlatch the lock. “Better than the black and white study at the last show?”

“ _Glorious_ isn’t… isn’t the word. Visually distressing is more accurate. Why the extra wall facade tacked on like that?” The other woman replied.

“Delia”, Lydia replied.

There was a nod of understanding, “Explains so much.”

Both girls were similar in terms of their lack-of height, but that’s where the physical similarities started to pair off. Lydia Deetz was petite and dressed like a fancy little doll stuffed onto the rack of thrift shop; a look she had perfected over the years to a fine science. The other woman, a one Miss Holidae Bell, had a good several pounds on Lydia; choosing to hide her shapely form under ratty jeans and a well-worn, baggy sweater.

Holidae ran a hand through her bobbed, chestnut colored hair, staring up at the house. Her friend was right; seeing it in person was completely different than the photography showcase they hosted last month at the art gallery. Or having lived vicariously through the vivid descriptions late nights in their small college dormitory, a pastime they often shared every time Lydia came back from her home visits.

Sudden movement in a tiny attic window caught her attention, her head tilting forward as she stood on her tiptoes in a attempt to see better.

“Hey Lyddy, didn’t you say your parents left yesterday?” Without taking her eyes off the window, Holidae reached out to the side to grab the suitcase she was handed.

Lydia was digging around in her bag for the house keys, “Yep. The 8:20am to Rome.”

Holidae jerked her head toward the attic, “Something’s moving around upstairs.”

Fumbling suddenly with the keys, the other girl shook her head, “Couldn’t be… oh, maybe they left a door open! Bad drafts upstairs. Plays up the whole haunted house look, wouldn’t you say?”

Lydia’s oddly fast reply didn’t go unnoticed by Holidae, “Huh. I suppose so. Irresponsible though, what if someone got in and robbed the place?”

“It’s Delia. I was lucky to get the spare key set before they made it to the airport.” Dragging a heavy suitcase up the gravel walkway, Lydia approached the front door to unlock it.

Holidae stood watching the window for a few more moments before following suit, unable to pinpoint the feeling that her friend was being a little shifty. Maybe Lydia had been truthful during her late night ghost stories about dancing around in the air, or her photos of “ghosts” she took when she was younger. Holidae always chalked it up to her friend’s penchant for the bizarre, but it wasn’t as though Holidae herself was a skeptic about the supernatural. It was one of the reasons the girls had bonded so quickly as roommates.

There was never any judgement made about one or the other’s eccentric qualities. Just a casual acceptance that _well, that’s how they are_. No harm done. No questions asked.

_Well,_ Holidae thought as she crossed the threshold into the house proper, _it would make for an interesting occupancy._

As both women made their way into the relatively normal - for a change - footprint of the house, a pang of guilt struck Lydia deep in her chest. She didn’t like lying to Holidae, but certain facts about the home’s… other guest… weren’t something to be discussed within the first few minutes into the house.

Breakfast, maybe?

Or never?

She doubted she could really get away with keeping the attic’s occupant a secret for the long term; he wouldn’t stay quiet with someone new in the house.

The other occupant was less of a guest and more of a very permanent resident. It’s the unfortunate result of not reading the handbook thoroughly, Juno had told him; not that she encouraged him to read the thing cover to cover. The _less_ he knew, the _more_ she could ignore him.

Beetlejuice watched from the attic window; a thin trail of smoke rising from the cigarette he just lit up. Lydia, his best bestest friend in this world or beyond, had done her best to explain the new housing situation to him. Truthfully, he may or may not have zoned out during the conversation, but he got the gist of what she was trying to say.

_No, she is not some breather replacement best friend._

_I will of course come and talk to you all the time!_

_Just be good… please?_

_Don’t scare Holli or so HELP ME, BJ-_

Things like that. Like he was some little kid.

…that last point was probably high up on Lydia’s priority list, but not so much on his.

He took a drag off the cigarette, trying to eavesdrop on the conversation below. Lydia had accurately described Holidae’s appearance, he mused, must be a photographer thing. Thicker build than the waif-like Lydia - which was something she had _not_ imparted to him fully - but he was infinitely thankful for the surprise. Meat on a breather was something he had admitted to himself he was keen on, not that he would turn _any_ sort of partner down based on looks. He was an equal opportunity demon, after all.

Beetlejuice’s face broke out in a very wide grin when he noticed Holidae staring upward, and he waved just for kicks, “Oh-ho, you’re going to be too much fun, aren’t you?”

He pressed his face comically hard against the window glass, banging on the frame as hard as he could. Holidae was still staring, meaning _something_ he was doing was getting through to her. Sure, Lydia could always see and converse with him with ease, and that was something uniquely special about his friend. It would make sense that she would find another living soul that had the same affinity for the strange and unusual to pal around with when she wasn’t hanging out with him. Just _how_ strange was yet to be determined.

Stamping out the cigarette, he wandered back to the center of his little attic space, “Might as well get the introductions out of the way. Would hate to be a poor host.”

With a small puff of smoke, he disappeared into lower floor of the house.


	2. In Which Odd Happenings Occur

It took several hours of the women to fully unpack the truck and start to settle in their respective space in the house. Lydia had given Holidae the guest room next to her own bedroom on the second floor, which happened to be nearest the steps to the attic. A situation that was not Lydia’s original intention, but Delia had commandeered the other bedroom to store her art pieces while she and Charles were away. Holidae wasn’t the sort of person go to poking around by herself, so there wasn’t a danger of _her_ discovering the secrets lurking around the home. However, there was a zero percent chance that the resident ghost would extend the same courtesy to her friend’s privacy. 

The proximity of the new breather to his humble abode did not escape Beetlejuice’s attention. A nagging little thought in the back of his mind warned him that this might some sort of test set up by Lydia to see how well-behaved he could be with such an opportunity.

_Fuck that_ , he thought, _not as though she could do much in retaliation._

The specter watched the girls throughout the move-in process, hovering just out of sight to not alert Lydia to his presence. One glance from her and there was good chance he would be sent back to cool off in the Neitherworld before you could say _sandworm_.

No, he had to stay inconspicuous, which was a struggle for the extroverted bioexorcist truth be told. He followed Holidae up the stairs to her room, picking occasionally at her sweater to make her pause and glance around to look for the stray nail or some other object she might have caught it on. At one point, her gaze had landed right on his face, her dull-green eyes staring right into his molten gold.

It made him pause, thinking that he had pushed her a little too far and the jig was up on his playtime. After a few moments, she continued her trek up the stairs, heading into her bedroom. Beetlejuice was safe, for now. The benefit to such a position was that it allowed him a very intimate look at the new house guest without her freaking out.

She was pale as Lyds; and between the smudged eye makeup and dark circles she gave the impression she hadn’t slept in a good several years. Insomniacs were the _best_ when it came to frightening breathers. Fish in a barrel. Not that he wouldn’t have appreciated a harder challenge, but hey, everyone likes to have a little break now and again.

Holidae’s lips were full - matching her overall face shape - but noticeably bitten. Nerves? Bad habit? Things that he definitely kept tabs on to create the perfect storm of scares for the unsuspecting breather? _Yes._

Beetlejuice busied himself with being nosy while Holidae haphazardly unpacked her suitcases, moving the clothes into a nearby dresser under the window. He frowned at the lack of frilly lingerie and _other_ scandalous things one might hide away out of embarrassment. Nothing obscene to gossip with Lydia about, how disappointing.

The only thing worth noting were the copious number of notebooks and accounting ledgers.

What was she, a _nerd?_

While she was distracted with the dresser, he caused one of the ledgers to “accidentally” flutter open to a random page. They were filled with detailed lists and monetary amounts; a few random acronyms he couldn’t identify in the side margins. After a moment, it dawned on him that the lists were titles of Lydia’s photographs and art pieces.

“Oh God/Satan, don’t tell me she’s an _accountant_.” The ghost ran a hand through his hair, the green fading into a more solemn blue tone.

Lydia had told him about the growing number of followers who frequented her art shows in the human world; to which he would always offer himself up as the next model for her studies. For _some reason_ she always turned down his offer, stating that it would be difficult to photograph a ghost that wouldn’t appear on film.

Thoroughly dejected after yet another rejection, Beetlejuice decided to be a brat and take a chunk of her photographs down into the Neitherworld with him. Turns out, human paraphernalia was a hot ticket item to all the ghouls and demons down there, and he was able to make a quick'n'dirty profit off Lydia’s work. Sure, he kept the profits for himself, since he was the one who had the brilliant idea in the first place.

It was only fair.

Holidae must do the same thing for Lydia topside, he surmised, although by the shabby state of her wardrobe and sparse furniture… it wasn’t a profitable venture for her. Did she not know that sellers get at least a 75% cut of all deals? What do they teach breathers up here anyway?

“Gonna have to teach you the fine art of the deal, girly,” Beetlejuice muttered, floating over to drape himself over the dresser. “Be happy to lend you my expertise on a whole _bunch_ of topics.”

The woman paused in folding her clothes into the dresser, looking around the room with a sour expression. She could have sworn she heard someone talking, but Lydia had gone back downstairs not too long ago. A chill up her spine made her shiver; not having noticed the temperature of the room dropping sharply.

The ghost above her grinned from ear to ear, “C'mon, I know you’re not scared already, are you? I haven’t even done anything. So _sensitive_ , huh?”

Holidae hugged the sweater she had been folding against her chest tightly, her mouth curving into a pout. A faint buzzing sound… like someone mumbling constantly from several rooms away.

“It’s an old house, probably fried wiring buzzing.” Holidae reasoned with herself, continuing her task and closing the dresser drawer. “Maybe an animal got into the walls at some point; it’s an old house, probably needs new insulation. …or some sort of eldritch horror beckoning me into the deep abyss through some portal in my closet.”

Beetlejuice snorted with a cackle, “You have no idea how accurate you are, baby doll. Oh boy, I have _got_ to get us better acquainted.”

“Lydia?” Holidae stood up straight, rubbing her arms to generate some heat. “Are you trying to talk to me?”

Soft footfalls were heard coming up the staircase, and soon Lydia’s head popped into view from the doorway. She opened her mouth to reply, but what came out was a choked gasp.

Lydia could _clearly_ see Beetlejuice balanced on the dresser beside Holidae, his expression like a snake toying with a mouse. When he noticed his best friend staring at him, he waved enthusiastically, his hair turning a bright, luminescent green. Her jaw worked up and down like a gaping fish, her brain furiously scrambling to process the scene.

“Babes! Aren’t you going to introduce me to your breather buddy?” He vanished and then reappeared on Holidae’s bed, lounging like a great cat. “Teach her the magic words and we’ll have the best housewarming party.”

Holidae noticed Lydia’s distressed expression, “Lyddy! What happened?”

“Nothing!” The tone was so high pitched it could cut glass, “You… startled me and I ran up here. I thought you like, fell or something.”

Her eyes kept nervously flicking over to the bed, trying to ignore the ghost rolled around on the sheets like a child.

“ _Laaaaaaaame_. Better come up with something quick before she gets suspicious.” Beetlejuice taunted her.

“I meant the house makes things sound weird, so I rushed up,” Lydia placed a hand on her hip, “Haunted and all that.”

Holidae’s eyebrows furrowed, “Right. So, the buzzing noise is a portal to another dimension, yeah? Just want to make sure none of my clothes get stretched out by demons trying them on.”

Lydia laughed, “Exactly. Demons aren’t exactly known for being petite.”

“I resemble that remark.” Beetlejuice hissed, sitting up on the bed and smoothing out his striped suit.

“Good to know.” Holidae cleared her throat, “Oh, hey, mind if I snag some extra blankets? You weren’t kidding about the drafts in here.”

“Third door to the left,” Lydia gestured out into the hallway, moving aside as the other woman moved past her.

As soon as they were alone, Lydia marched over and grabbed Beetlejuice by his tie, putting them nose to nose with each other. The childish attitude he had was completely dropped, replaced by with a much more placating tone.

“Now now, babes, I wasn’t bothering her that much. Just wanted to know what was going on since you hadn’t come and said hello yet.” He held up his hands in a surrendering gesture. “How was I supposed to know she would be thoroughly engrossed by my humble presence.”

“Nothing about you is humble, BJ.” The deadpanned tone said it all. “What did I say about Holidae?”

There was a pause, “…that when there’s a school holiday you get to come visit longer?”

“ _Beetlejuice_ ,” Lydia let go of his tie, running a hand over her face in anguish. “ _No.”_

Beetlejuice winced at the use of his full name, “Okay, okay… I know. Don’t bother her. But _Lyds_ , she looked _right at me_. She knows I’m around! You’re not gonna deny me the chance to be _seen,_ are you?! You were the last human in _aaaaages_ that could see me first thing.”

As much as she wanted to stay angry, to say him name three times and banish him for a while as punishment for breaking her rules, she couldn’t refuse his plea. It was true what he said: she had been the first living person to notice him in a long time. To end his invisibility. If Holidae could already feel him around… maybe it was better to treat the subject like a band aid and rip it off quickly.

With a heavy sigh, she rubbed the bridge of her nose, “Give me some time to ease her into the idea.”

“That’s why you’re my best bestest friend, babes.” He loosened his tie, vanishing from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Feel free to come say hello on my tumblr where this fic is crossposted: vicunaburger.tumblr.com
> 
> Much Obliged,
> 
> EmberFluff (Vicuna)


	3. In Which There is a Sleepless Night

Lydia, in fact, did _not_ ease Holidae into an introduction with Beetlejuice that afternoon. Nor did the subject come up during dinner.

Or after dinner.

…or at any point that day before the two women retreated to their respective sleeping areas for the night.

Not for a lack of reminders that the ghost so thoughtfully bestowed upon his best friend during every single lull in the women’s conversation. He made grotesque faces behind Holidae’s back in order to frustrate Lydia into compliance. Lydia did her damndest to ignore him, which was a precarious balancing act of keeping her expression neutral _and_ stopping him from physically manipulating their surroundings.

Twice she had to stop random objects from being chucked across the room. She was mildly impressed at herself for catching them - sports were never her forte - but running all over the house after the ghost was exhausting. It was when he started picking at Holidae’s sweater and flipping bits of her hair into her face that Lydia decided to bring out the heavy weaponry.

Whilst Holidae’s attention was distracted for a moment, she quickly muttered Beetlejuice’s name two-and-a-half times in a row.

All poltergeist-esque shenanigans ceased immediately, and Lydia could finally relax enough to try and get some sleep after such a long day of moving. Dejected, Beetlejuice resigned himself to following Holidae around like a strange, otherworldly dog. Lydia thought better of telling him to stop outright; knowing he could throw a fit and plunge the house into absolute madness.

With a final warning, Lydia closed to the door to her room, assuring the ghost the promise of tomorrow.

That wasn’t soon _enough_.

Holidae shuffled through her new bedroom, unaware of being followed by the spectre, and flopped unceremoniously upon her bed with a sigh. She was glad for the day to finally be over; truth be told. Not that she didn’t appreciate the fact Lydia offered the home stay in the first place, quite the opposite.

Since their graduation from college, the roommates had bounced from sofa to sofa while they tried to find a permanent home. It was difficult to pick a location to settle in for the time being as Lydia’s art career tried to get off the ground. Finding inexpensive places to live while traveling around the country for art shows was proving to be the needle in a haystack. Landlords didn’t really want to give discounts for absentee tenants.

It was sheer luck that Lydia’s parents had decided to spend several months traveling around the world, leaving the house in the girls’ care without a thought for monetary repayment.

Holidae rolled over on her back, staring up at the ceiling in a daze. A nagging voice in her head told her this whole situation was just _too good_ , and that the other shoe was destined to drop down at any moment. Maybe it was her own anxieties that had made the day feel… _off_ since their arrival. Lydia’s behavior, the strange mood of the house… it could have been all in her own head.

Beetlejuice paced around the room as Holidae stared off into oblivion, occasionally stopping to see if she were doing anything entertaining. He _hated_ being invisible again, especially since all the residents of the house were able to see and interact with him on the regular. And Lyds had expected him to last a whole night being bored because she didn’t want to scare her breather friend or some shit?

Patience might have been a virtue, but it wasn’t one of _his_.

He scratched the stubble of his beard thoughtfully, “If I were a breather… which, ehh, not trying that again; what would make _me_ want to see _me_?”

Holidae sat up with a jolt, startling the ghost as he pondered over his next course of action. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she got up and padded over to the empty space he was currently occupying. Beetlejuice backed up out of reflex, unsure of how corporeal he may or may not have been to her at the time. The Handbook was a bit fuzzy on interactions with breathers who were more receptive to otherworldly influences; but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Besides, he was the one usually disregarding personal spaces, not having his space invaded so abruptly.

“Hey, short stack, a little warning next time would be nice.” He reached out, one of his darkened fingertips prodding against Holidae’s forehead.

Reflexively, Holidae swept her hand upward, thinking there was some sort of insect she couldn’t see in the dim room lighting. Her hand hit _something_.

_Something heavy._

With an undignified squeak, she stumbled backward, catching the corner of the bed with her ankle and landing square on her ass on the hardwood floor. Hissing in pain, she rolled over on her side, letting loose a litany of curses into the crook of her elbow to muffle the noise. Beetlejuice was torn between wanting to help her and wanting to laugh at the slapstick display. He probably _should_ help her out a little, seeing as if she was hurt Lydia could come into the room he would get _blamed_ , but he could always vanish and feign ignorance.

Nah, Lydia would blame him anyway.

“That’s it… I’ve gone insane. It’s the house!” Holidae moaned in defeat, curling up on the rug. “Okay, Lyddy, I’ve got the next idea for the art show. Just come here and take photos of the pathetic nutcase on the floor. What once was a human, now pile of barely held together nerve endings.”

The ghost took out a business card from the right breast pocket of his jacket, shaking it clear of cobwebs before materializing a pen in his other hand. He crossed out a few things, scribbled down some additions, and sat down on the floor beside Holidae. With a little finesse, he flicked the card so that it would land within peripheral vision of the woman curled up like a roly-poly.

The minutes crawled by, but eventually, Holidae noticed the small card a few inches from her head. Gingerly sitting up, rubbing the base of her spine, she picked up the card; the yellowed paper embossed with dingy black ink.

“ _Betelgeuse, the Bio-Exorcist…say my name three times…_ ” Holidae mumbled, flipping the card over. “ _Professional… matchmaker, psychoanalyst, and amateur massage therapist._ What the hell is this?”

Beetlejuice’s face split into a wide grin, his sharpened teeth glinting in the dim light of the room, “C'mon, follow instructions…”

Holidae looked around the floor just in case there was anything else that could explain the sudden appearance of the card, wincing as her bruised skin protested the movement. Could it have been an art project of Lydia’s? Fake advertisements? Maybe she had been experimenting with graphic art in her off hours? If the card required speaking something aloud, it could have even been a foray into performance art. _Weird stuff_.

“Ugh,” she made a noise of frustration, flipping the card around idly in her fingers. “This is dumb. _I’m_ dumb. Why am I even thinking about this for long? It’s just some stupid set of weird things… and… and random pieces of paper. Probably garbage.”

Beetlejuice tugged at his hair in frustration, the hue reflecting streaks of deep red, “Just. _Say the words_. Very simple. Three times. That’s it. It’ll be a _magical fucking experience._ ”

Brow furrowed in dismay, Holidae stared at the card as though it would suddenly catch fire in her hand, “Beetlejuice…”

The ghost perked up, “Yesssss?”

“Beetlejuice…” she continued, a chill in the air making her shiver.

_One. More. Time._

A deep breath filled her lungs, and she looked upwards toward the stationary ceiling fan, “…Beetlejuice?”

The familiar sensation of being pulled fully into the material plane - which felt like a weird pinching sensation he could never understand - washed over Beetlejuice as soon as the words left her lips. He could feel the living world, the warmth radiating off the breather in front of him; the general _alive_ - _ness_ of the atmosphere of the house. It was so different from the Neitherworld; so much more appealing compared to the drab, monotone world he had inhabited for countless eras.

Holidae could feel _something_ shift in the air around the room, but it wasn’t something she could pin down into a tangible sensation. The lightbulb flickered in her bedside lamp, the shadows crawling along the walls like serpents or a swarm of insects. A musty, heady smell like freshly tilled earth filled her nostrils; mixed with the acrid scent of smooth cigarette smoke and cheap liquor.

And just like that, she was no longer alone in her room.

One of the most eccentric looking men she had ever seen was on his hands and knees in front of her, smiling with a mouth full of distressingly sharp - _stained_ \- teeth. He was dressed in a matching suit of black and white vertical stripes… at least at one point they might have been white, it was hard to tell under the fine layer of grime and various imperfections. A shock of bright green hair was fluffled up on his head, and his rounded face sported a five o'clock shadow.

Holidae’s jaw hung slack as she tried to process his sudden appearance. She felt so… _small_ in his presence, as though his entire being filled the empty spaces in the room.

The wood floor under his hands and knees creaked suddenly with his new weight, his body shifting into a crouching position, “Hiya, _Holly-Jolly_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read and/or left kudos for me. I greatly appreciate anyone taking the time to read my silly story. :) 
> 
> Feel free to come say hello on my tumblr where this fic is crossposted: vicunaburger.tumblr.com
> 
> Much Obliged,
> 
> EmberFluff (Vicuna)


	4. In Which Introductions are Made

The human female and the ghostly male sat in a long, uncomfortable silence; neither one of them willing to make the first delicate move. A few times, Holidae took a deep breath in preparation for speaking, but instead kept her mouth shut. Nervously, she started to chew on her lower lip, aggravating the skin that had already bruised from the last time she gave in to the habit.

Beetlejuice eventually eased himself into sitting cross legged on the hardwood floor, his knees pressing against her legs with the lightest pressure. It was a two-fold maneuver: one, to get himself comfortable, and two, to keep her pinned between the bed and his body. There was a good chance she would try to bolt out of reach once she gathered her wits. He didn’t want playtime to end too early.

He watched as her eyes darted from the door to the card still held in her hand, the paper crinkling in her iron grip. Slowly, he reached out and took the card away, setting it on the floor next to them. Each motion was calculated; like an animal wrangler on those nature shows Lydia liked to watch late at night.

“Now, I’m going to take your lack of a proper greeting- _stop that”_ Beetlejuice darted his hand out and pulled her lip from in between her teeth. “Gonna ruin that **mouth** \- your lack of a greeting that you _can in fact_ see me, but you are speechless with awe of my good looks. I know. I get it. It’s a lot to take in at once, but please take your time. Let your eyes wander… start undressing me…”

Holidae touched her lips briefly, pulling away to find her fingertips dotted with blood, “Habit.”

“It speaks!” Beetlejuice clapped his hands excitedly, “And _you can see me_. This is the best day ever. Wanna know why?”

“…because that fall actually killed me and hell is surprisingly familiar?” she replied, subtly attempting to move away, but only succeeding in rubbing her legs against his.

“Ha, cute. Precious, but no. You are very much alive,” a hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder, keeping her immobile. “You and I are friends now. Not _bestest_ best friends; that’s Lyds. She’s special. You are not as special as Lydia, but I wanna be pals. Compadres. Friends with benefits?”

She blinked down at the clawed hand, swallowing heavily, “Lydia’s your friend?”

“ _Bestest_ _best_ ,” he corrected, enjoying the feel of her sweater beneath his fingers. “I get why she could wanna keep me all to herself, though. But I figured; share the wealth since we’re roomies now. There’s plenty of me to go around, Holly’n’Ivy.”

Holidae started to calculate her chances of making a mad dash for the bedroom door. He had the advantage over her in a few ways, but maybe she could gain a few feet before being caught. If nothing else, the attempt would make her feel not-as-helpless as she did currently.

Beetlejuice could almost _hear_ the gears turning in her brain, figuring she would be going to go on the offensive any moment. With a soft puff of smoke, he vanished, reappearing behind her with his hands under her arms to help her stand up.

Unable to do much but comply, she let herself be placed upright like a marionette. Beetlejuice was none too subtle about holding his thick fingers tight against the sides of her chest, getting a good feel of her breasts hidden beneath her sweater.

“Hey,” Holidae spun on her heel, puffing herself up to seem bigger than she was, “Those aren’t for _you_.”

“Be nice if they _were_.” He shrugged, adjusting his suspenders under his jacket, “I certainly wouldn’t mind taking care of them for you- _oh no you don’t.”_

Holidae had bolted for the door, just twisting the knob before a dozen ghostly padlocks barred her escape. She rattled the chains in a childish gesture, looking back over her shoulder at her captor. He was busying himself with getting comfortable in her bed, kicking off his boots, shrugging off his jacket, and leaning back against the headboard.

She turned to face him fully, an incredulous look on her face, “Excuse me, do you mind?”

Beetlejuice patted the spot next to him, “Nope. There’s plenty of room for us, babydoll. What’s the thread count on the sheets? Above five hundred?”

“ _What do you want?”,_ Holidae moved to stand at the end of the bed, “My soul? Probably not worth much, but then again I don’t know the current exchange rate. My first born? My organs? I kinda need the organs in general… so not that. Blood too, that’s important to me.”

The ghost chuckled, pulling a cigarette out and offering it to her, “You want one? You seem twitchy.”

“No, thank you.” She shook her head. “Wait. What? Just… why are you on the bed? Aren’t you some… demon? Boogeyman thing? Why aren’t you being more _menacing_?”

He blew a few smoke rings into the air, gesturing to the whole of her, “I am having way too much fun watching **whatever** this is, sweetheart.”

Before she continued her ranting, Holidae walked over and moved an empty glass on the bedside table closer to him. He tilted his head slightly, his vivid green hair dulling into a moderate violet. Every move she was making was imprinting itself into his brain; another piece of the puzzle being slotted into place.

“Ashes,” she explained, seeing the puzzled look on his face.

Without a word, he flicked the excess ashes into the cup she provided.

“Thank you, _now_. I find it most difficult to believe that not only are you friends with Lydia, but that she would neglect to tell me about some guy living in the house with us. Which means **you’re** lying, because she has no reason to lie to me.” Holidae paced the room, tugging at her hair in frustration.

He held up a hand in protest, “My bestest best friend would totally lie to you. I taught her everything I know.”

“Okay. Fine, let’s say she lied. Now I have to deal with that knowledge.” Holidae stopped pacing, “The point is that… that…”

She trailed off, all her previous bluster deflating quickly. _Was_ there really a point to be made in a situation like this? There was some random… _person…_ making himself at home in her bed - that Lydia may or may not know personally - who seemed to possess some degree of supernatural prowess. Bending down, she picked up the forgotten business card, trying to discern any fine print she may have missed.

Beetlejuice watched her go through at least three stages of grief during that long pause, content to let her puzzle things out for herself. Holidae was so _different_ from the Deetz and Maitland clans. A new breather to mold into something fun to play with for a while. Half the work was already done for him given her little quirks such as the unprompted ashtray, and the fact she hadn’t gone screaming in terror the moment he showed up.

She was _hospitable_ , which meant there was no immediate danger of him being banished for now.

It was going to be fun learning all those buttons to push. Bonus points if he could get hands on those knockers again. _Future goal_.

“I should talk to Lydia about all this.” Holidae broke the silence, gesturing to the door. “Let me out?”

Beetlejuice shook his head, “It’ll open in the morning. Don’t need you interrupting her sleep.”

“I could yell really loud,” she challenged, taking a deep breath. “LY-”

Holidae found herself screaming face first into her pillow instead of the open air, the ghost having the forethought to translocate her person onto the bed next to him, face down. It was… not a pleasant sensation. Her body felt like it was waking up on pins and needles from being stationary too long.

She turned her head toward him, getting an eyeful of black and white striped waistband connected to suspenders, “If you could _never_ do that again, I would appreciate it.”

Beetlejuice dropped the cigarette into the cup, scooting his body down to get eye level with her, “I’m sure you would, but that means I’d be denying myself the enjoyment.”

Holidae rolled her head back to squish her face into the bed, sighing heavily, “…Six-fifty, I think.”

One of his claws started poking at her in various places, and he snickered when he prodded the squishy flesh of her hips, causing her to roll to the edge of the mattress. "What's that?"

“The thread count.” She replied, trying to push him off the bed with her feet. “Get… get up! Don’t you have your own bed? If I’m gonna be trapped here for the night, at least let me have my privacy.”

Holidae found herself kicking at the air, her bedmate now standing in the middle of the room, putting his jacket back on. Irritated, she sat up and whipped her pillow in his direction, catching him square in the center of his chest. For a few tense moments, neither of them moved; Holidae thinking she nailed her own coffin shut, and Beetlejuice surprised at the sudden attack.

With a dramatic sigh, Beetlejuice clutched his chest, moaning as though he were in pain, “Oh~! You have wounded my delicate heart. To be rejected by such a creature… _forever shamed_! I pray you will be cured of these hysterics in the morning. For now, I take my leave.”

He vanished, leaving Holidae thoroughly confused by the entire display.

“ _What the fuck was that?”_


	5. In Which Things Go Awry Over Coffee

Lydia tapped impatiently on the glass container that held her still-brewing coffee. 

She had thought that by getting a cheap French press it would bring nothing but benefits in the long run: delicious caffeine without leaving your house and waiting for some hipster barista to make it for you. Unfortunately, that just meant that _she_ was now the hipster barista in her own home and had to make it herself, which took precious time away in the morning hours.

Sometimes, she would get lucky and Holidae would have already made it for her; a result that came from her roommate’s insomnia. Often, she would stay up all through the night, and into the next morning when Lydia would arrive for breakfast. Holidae would already be standing in the kitchen, scrolling through her phone as she sipped from her own cup.

_Lucky_ might have been a selfish thought. More like benefiting off a friend’s unfortunate circumstances. Harsh, but Holidae never complained openly about it, so Lydia never worried about taking advantage.

The timer she had set went off loudly, and Lydia wandered over to the stove to shut it down. When she went back to the counter, her coffee was… _gone._

Instead of flipping out at the sudden lack of an object that was once there and now _isn’t_ , she calmly sat down at the kitchen table, taking a deep breath.

“If I don’t have a cup in my hands in the next _10 seconds_ , I’m calling a priest.” She announced to the seemingly empty space.

In a puff of green smoke her coffee appeared in her favored black mug, elegantly placed on a lime green coaster. Lydia picked up the cup, taking a sip with a relaxed sigh.

“Good morning, babes!” Beetlejuice appeared in the seat across from her, a newspaper in both hands. “Supposed to rain today.”

“Is that right? Damn… I was planning to shoot the cemetery later.” She tilted her head, trying to read the front page of the paper. “Why are you so… chipper?”

Beej put the paper down, “Because you’re home? Because I get to meet a new friend? Because rainy days bring out those fat worms in the garden and they are the best for snacking? Lots of reasons.”

Lydia stared deep into the dark liquid swirling around in the cup, “BJ, about Holli…”

The ghost tried to hide the chuckle he let out with a cough, remembering the previous night’s interactions with the breather. He was _sure_ Lyds would get a kick out of the fact he had gotten Holidae to summon him without help from his bestest best friend. He was a very _clever_ fiend.

“What about her?” He asked, going back to his paper nonchalantly.

“I’m really sorry I didn’t have you two meet last night.” She confessed, warming both hands around the cup. “I’m just nervous you two aren’t going to get along.”

Another suspicious cough, “Oh, don’t you worry, Lyds. From what you told me, I’m sure we’ll get along like the Sherman brothers.”

There was a long pause, “…Beej, they _hated_ each other.”

“ **Really**? But that _sugar sweet_ song catalogue…” He peeked over the top of the paper incredulously, “Well, nevermind that. We’ll be the best pals, babes.”

Lydia sighed again, “You’re my best friend, Beej, but she’s my best non-ghost friend. What if I have pick sides in an argument? What if she freaks out and moves away forever? Its pressure I don’t want! That’s why I wanted to introduce you two on my terms.”

An unfamiliar sensation struck Beetlejuice deep in the pit of his stomach, “… _yeah_?”

“And… and Holidae isn’t always… _balanced_. Not in the psycho killer type way, but she can get stuck on this anxiety autopilot. It’s hard to get her out of her own head. It’s why she doesn’t sleep often.” Lydia continued, sipping her coffee quietly. “So I felt that if I steered the conversation between the three of us, it would keep everything neutral, you know?”

That sensation hit him harder this time, and he desperately tried to hide his face behind the paper, “…no, no I getcha’, babes. You were just being your usual, thoughtful self is all. No hard feelings. _None_. All good.”

Beetlejuice was _infinitely_ glad he was hidden from view, lest Lydia see the bright yellow mess his hair had become; a clear sign he was nervous. He hadn’t stopped to consider Lydia might _actually_ have a really good reason for keeping quiet about him, instead of just to prolong his torture. She was always thinking of other people – _mostly him to be honest_ – and he had gone behind her back and completely botched her plans.

His stomach was doing flips, and he was sure he’d be sweating bullets right now if had the capacity.

Ah, _guilt_.

That was the feeling.

…it had been a _while_.

Not wanting Lydia to worry herself any more than she had, he tried to calm himself down, desperately willing his mood to change into something better. After a few moments, he vanished his paper out of existence, reaching over and patting Lydia on the head.

“ _Baaaaabes_ , don’t you worry! You just let me know when you need me, and I’ll come running. Or floating. Whichever I feel like. Anyway, what I’m saying is take your time and don’t get all antsy about stuff. I can behave… sometimes.” He smiled wide, hoping she couldn’t hear the tension in his voice.

Brushing his hand away, Lydia smoothed out her frizzed hair, “I appreciate it, Beej. As soon as she comes down, I’ll talk to her. Promise.”

“Hey, I’m easy.” He chuckled, vanishing into thin air, leaving his friend alone for the moment.

—

Beetlejuice reappeared in Holidae’s room, spotting the breather sprawled out on the bed and haphazardly tangled in her blankets. He noted she had changed clothes between now and when he left her; sporting what looked like men’s boxer shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Not the slinky lingerie – or better yet _commando_ – look he had secretly hoped for, but the shorts provided a good view of her well-rounded hips and thighs.

Tiptoeing over to the bed, he reached down and poked at her cheek lightly with his finger, “Hey, Holly Hobby, time to wake up. We need to talk.”

Absolutely _no_ response came from the woman on the bed, only the continued rhythmic rising and falling of her chest. Undeterred, he scratched at her face with his claw, hoping the more abrasive touch would do the trick. Holidae inhaled deeply, swatting at her face and rolling over onto her stomach.

Not the response he wanted, although he was momentarily distracted by the fact her shorts were riding up against the swell of her ass. A strangled sort of noise worked its way out of his throat, little streaks of pink highlights sprouting throughout his hair. He _told_ Lydia he could behave, but _how_ could he when such an opportunity was staring him right in the face.

There was the nagging moral quandary to what he was about to do; and he _did_ pause to consider the alternatives to his proposed action. Sure, he _could_ just try and continue to wake her up nicely, but he _knew_ his idea would a much faster – and _profitable_ – venture.

Beetlejuice crackled his knuckles, limbering up as though he were gearing up for a boxing match. With a flourish, he brought the back of his hand down right on Holidae’s butt cheek; a sharp _smack_ sounding out as his skin hit her flesh.

In an instant, Holidae was up and swinging wildly, managing to catch him in the jaw with a left hook. Of course, never having been in a real fist fight – watching plenty of action movies sure, but those didn’t count – she was unprepared for the jolt of pain running down her wrist with the impact. Clutching her hand to her chest, she fell back onto the bed, curling up like a ball bug.

“ _Son of a bitch_ -!” Holidae whined, nursing her hand, “What the _absolute_ hell are you made of?”

Beej was working his jaw into place, not suspecting the sudden strength of the counterattack, “Dead guy stuff?”

“Fuck you!” She snapped, shaking out her hand to get some feeling back into it. “I _knew_ that. Wish I didn’t, but I _do._ And now I will think about that _forever_. _”_

Between her hand popping loudly, and the stinging skin on her backside, Holidae was having a hell of a time trying to process being woken up so suddenly from her deep sleep. Beetlejuice took the opportunity to slide into bed next to her, pulling her up by her shoulders into a sitting position. She blinked at him owlishly; her hair flattened in odd places from sleep, and her mascara smudged under her eyes.

He threw an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her body against his and leaning in as though he were whispering a secret, “Listen, baby, when you come downstairs, you have to make sure Lydia has _no idea_ we know each other.”

Holidae could smell that damp earth musk about him, her nose twitching with the scent, “Yeah, _no_ , I’m going to tell her.”

Beetlejuice squeezed tighter, “Ah, see, here’s the part where I tell you that you’re going to keep your pretty mouth shut about it because I will _make you_ keep it shut. Lydia is all stressed out about us getting along, and if she finds out that you and I are buddies, she will get angry. I don’t want angry Lydia. I want _happy_ Lydia.”

She was about to object, but recalled an incident where she had _seen_ angry Lydia firsthand. It was during an art show and a critic was being especially rude about one of the photos Lydia had been presenting as part of her collection. Needless to say, once she was done witnessing the small, doll-like Lydia completely _tearing the man into pieces_ , Holidae resolved to never be on the receiving end of the other woman’s wrath.

Holidae could only _imagine_ what she would have done to the ghost, and by extension, herself.

“If… **if** I agree, will you promise never to wake me up like that again?” she attempted to pry his hand off of her shoulder.

“Of course, Buddy Holly~ I will never wake you up like _that_ again.” He grinned, inwardly excited that she hadn’t been more specific in her instructions.

He just _loved_ loopholes.

Holidae side-eyed the ghost next to her, sticking out her hand for him to shake, “Deal.”

Beej took hold of her hand, giving it a good shake… before pulling her closer and planting a very sloppy kiss to her cheek, “You’re the best, you know that?”

Squealing in protest, Holidae shoved him away, “No no no, I don’t know where you’ve been!”

“Well-” He started, but he was interrupted.

“ _Rhetorical statement_ ,” she pointed a finger at him threateningly, “If you want me to go along with your lie, go away. Now. Do the vanishing trick. I have to get dressed and stuff.”

Shrugging, BJ vanished into the air without a word. Holidae waited several minutes before getting up out of the bed, wanting to make sure she was alone before stripping out of her pajamas. Paranoid, she kept her chest covered as much as she possibly could, not trusting that he wasn’t lurking around somewhere trying to catch her off guard again.

Waiting until the last possible moment, she let the shirt drop to the floor, grabbing a bra and slipping it around her torso.

“I _knew_ you had a big rack,” the gravely voice laughed behind her, but he was gone the moment she turned around.

Holidae angrily pulled her shirt over her head, mumbling in what she was quickly adopting as a new mantra, “We want _happy_ Lydia… _happy Lydia…”_


	6. In Which Introductions are Re-Made

Holidae took her time coming down the stairs, running over every response to every possible combination of questions Lydia could ask of her. There were dozens of scenarios which ended with angry Lydia and two that ended with Holidae quitting while she was ahead and retreating back to her room for the foreseeable future. One outcome involved her diving under the kitchen table and just… _living_ there. 

The least plausible, she had to admit, but that didn’t stop her from considering it among the list of alternatives.

“Oh! What? A ghost lives here too? How crazy!” Holidae mumbled to herself, stopping halfway down the stairs. “No no. Sounds fake.”

She carefully maneuvered back up a couple of steps before trying again, “What do you _mean_ ghosts are real and there happens to be one living with us?”

“Wow, you **suck** at lying.” Beetlejuice appeared on the banister, sliding down in tandem with her.

“Wow, you **suck** in general.” Holidae snapped, moving her hand off the railing before he rolled over it. “Can’t be inconspicuous if you’re just _there_. Go away.”

She took a breath, continuing all the way to the bottom of the staircase. Beej followed her like a shadow, generally being a pest and causing her to stumble into the kitchen with a well-timed boot to the back of her knees. Lydia stood up from the table, concerned about her friend’s shaky entrance. She watched as Holidae righted herself, noticing BJ giggling up a storm behind her.

“Holli! Are you okay?” She scowled in the ghost’s direction, trying to subtly gesture for him to get lost. “I don’t want you to break your neck in the house. The insurance rates would skyrocket.”

Holidae stuck her tongue out impishly, desperately trying to disguise the fact she _knew_ why Lydia had such a sour expression.

“All good, Lyddy. Must have been these pants… not hemmed yet. Wobbly floorboard maybe? Something I could take you to court over?” she shuffled over to the table, sitting in one of the empty chairs.

Beetlejuice sat down between the two women, apparating a black and white swirled teacup, and slurped from it _loudly_. His eyes bounced from one girl to the other like a tennis match; each of them trying to hide their acknowledgement of him from the other. It was really a matter of who would crack first, and since he was a betting man, he would be put all of his money on Holidae.

“So, did you get some sleep? You weren’t up this morning,” Lydia kicked Beetlejuice under the table, earning a wheeze from the pained demon.

Holidae nodded, “Yeah, a little bit. Strangest thing though…”

Both Lydia and her ghostly pal trained their gazes on her, but Lydia spoke first, “Oh? What’s that? Did the monster in your closet come say hello?”

“Nuh-uh. But I kept hearing the weirdest noises, you know? More than the normal creaky old house stereotypes. That happen often?” Holidae stared right back at Lydia, her tone taking sharp dive into _serious_.

Lydia gave a quick glance to BJ, who in turn shrugged in the universal “not me” gesture, “Well, they told us the house was haunted when we moved in, so maybe that’s the reason? Or you were hallucinating again. You _really_ need sleep…”

A muscle twitched underneath Holidae’s eye, “Haunted, huh? By… _what_ … some _dead guy_?”

Beetlejuice transported himself to sit on the kitchen counter, a bowl of popcorn appearing in his hands. At this point, he really didn’t care _how_ mad Lydia would be with him once the truth came out. He was more interested in how mad _Holidae_ was going to be if Lydia kept dodging the questions. Of course, he would never let any _actual_ harm befall his bestest best friend in the whole wide world, but that didn’t mean he had to intervene _now._

“Ha, a dead guy.” Lydia’s voice cracked, unable to stop the lies rolling off her tongue so fluidly, “That’s funny, right? I mean… could you imagine this place being haunted by ghosts? What would you even think about that, Holli?”

“Right. _This_ house. The house I’m _living_ in now. Let’s talk about _this house being haunted by a ghost_ , shall we?” Holidae’s fist hit the table with force, “How _crazy_ would it be if my best friend didn’t bother to tell me if there was a dead man haunting the house I was going to be living in for an extended period of time!?”

The silence hung thick in the air between the two of them, until Lydia finally pointed directly at the ghost munching on popcorn in the corner, “You mean _that_ dead guy, don’t you?”

Holidae pushed herself away from the table, marching over and grabbing Beetlejuice by his tie, dragging him back over to the table. “ _Yes, Lyddy, this one._ The one I had _no_ prior knowledge about. The one I summoned by accident because you neglected to tell me _not to summon demon ghost things in the house.”_

“ _Beetlejuice_! What did you do?” Lydia was up out of her chair now, momentarily distracted by the rage directed at the ghost. “What did I **tell** you over and over about this? Didn’t you _listen_ to me?”

“Hey hey, easy on the name, babes.” He was trying to pry his tie from out of Holidae’s iron grip. “I always listen to seventy-five percent of what you say. Holiday Road here was the one that said my name; you _know_ I couldn’t _tell_ her to do it. If anything, **I’m** the victim here! _She_ forced me to appear and break your rules. You should stay mad at her and not me and- _let go of my tie before I eat your hand.”_

Beetlejuice opened his mouth wide, snapping at Holidae’s hand with his sharp teeth. She gave a yelp as she let him go, attempting to shove him backwards in a defensive motion. He had some height on her, as well as weight, so her attempt was short-lived. He grabbed both of her wrists, holding them away from his face as she attempted to scratch at him like an angry cat. The smaller woman was spurred on by his laughing, letting out a string of curses which included the phrase _“dollar store poltergeist”._

Lydia tried to get their attention, calling out their names to no avail. Beej didn’t seem too angry by Holidae’s attack, but she knew at any moment he could change his mood on a dime and really cause some damage. Although it killed her inside to waste such a precious resource, she grabbed the container of lukewarm coffee, climbed on top of the table, and poured the liquid over top of both of their heads.

The effect was immediate: both Holidae and Beej stopped their squabbling, turning their heads toward Lydia in – _disturbing­ –_ unison.

“ _Children_ , the kitchen is not a gymnasium. Now you,” She pointed at Holidae first, “ **Sit**.”

Having all the fight thoroughly soaked out of her, Holidae quietly sat back down at the table, folding her hands in her lap.

“And _you_.” Lydia addressed Beetlejuice, who had been casually trying to make his way out of the room. “ **Sit**.”

Beetlejuice vanished, reappearing across the table from Holidae, folding his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

Lydia hopped off the table, but didn’t sit down with them, choosing to stand to try and be intimidating, “I knew this would happen, but I didn’t think you two would actually get into a _brawl_ this early. Serves me right for trying a calm, logical approach with a dead sociopath and an easily agitated ball of nerve endings.”

Wisely, neither of them chose to interrupt.

“Yes, I should have discussed the situation with you before you agreed to move in with us, Holli. I’m really sorry, but you can kinda see why I wouldn’t be forthcoming about the whole ghost thing. So… Holli: ghosts are real, there’s one living in the house with us, and his name is Beetlejuice. Beej, this is Holidae Bell, and she will be living here as well. There. Now are we all good?”

“…I just have _one_ question.” Beetlejuice leaned forward, barely hiding his snickering. “You’re last name is _Bell?_ As in _jingle bell?_ Your folks named you _Holidae Bell_? Do they hate you? They have to hate you, right? No one names their kid something that blatant.”

He burst out in laughter, clutching his sides and doubling over in the chair. Holidae gave Lydia a _look_ , to which Lydia leaned over and whispered something into her ear.

With a Cheshire cat grin, Holidae leaned her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her hands. “Laugh it up, _Lawrence_.”

Beetlejuice’s hair alternated through various hues before settling on a mix of magenta and yellow, “H-hey…”

“Maybe I should call you Lawrencio? Lawrencier? _Larry?”_ She continued, glancing at Lydia with a smirk.

“Ohh, maybe _Laird?_ ” Lydia added, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

“No, wait! _Lars_ is a nickname, I think. Might have to look it up, but I’m pretty sure it counts.” Holidae nodded.

Beetlejuice got up from the table, his hair now a bright red, “That’s it! I don’t have to take this from two little breather girls. I’m a _goddamn demon_. You all want to sit here and have sleepovers and talk about me behind my back, _fine_. I know when I’m not wanted. Don’t you dare come running up to me on the Other Side when you snuff it like _‘oh hey Beej, my friend, help me out’_ because… because you are no longer my bestest best friend _or_ my pal. You’re just my _best_ friend and a casual acquaintance.”

With a puff of red smoke, he vanished, leaving the two women awestruck in his wake.

“…I’m guessing that’s not a good thing?” Holidae turned to Lydia sheepishly.

“…no, no it’s not.” Lydia sighed.


	7. In Which Civility is Attempted

It had been days, and no sign of the resident spectre.

There was still tension between Lydia and Holidae over the whole debacle; spurring random bouts of shouting at one another over the smallest of issues. In all honesty, their anger at each other was beginning to wane, but the lack of Beetlejuice kept Lydia on edge. It was unusual of him to disappear for so long, and there was no sign of him even just… _being_ in the house unseen.

The tension had boiled over at the _week-since-the-incident_ mark, and Lydia decided she needed to get out of the house for a while. She took the car into town, claiming the need for more camera supplies, and left Holidae alone to stew in her own guilt for the afternoon.

Anxiety wormed it’s way into Holidae’s brain; a constant buzzing sensation running through her veins as she paced around the house, looking for any kind of distraction, however inane it might have been. At a loss, she wandered outside onto the garish patio, flopping into one of the lawn chairs set out beside a small table. Thankfully, it was overcast and a cool autumn breeze scattered fallen leaves around the deck. Perfect napping weather, if nothing else.

Holidae had just started to nod off when the chair suddenly dipped down, creaking as it tried to bear the extra weight. Blinking her eyes open, she was nose to nose with the missing ghost, his expression… unreadable from such a close distance. The only clue she had was the purple hue that covered his normally green locks.

“That’s my chair, breather.” Beetlejuice leaned closer, pressing his chest against hers.

Holidae was pinned down in the lawn chair, surprised when it didn’t break under the weight of two full-grown adults. Moving her legs subtly, she realized only _half_ of his weight was balancing on top of her, the rest of him hovering just a few inches above her bottom half. She couldn’t tell if it was more or less intimidating to see him just _floating_ above her.

She poked at his stomach, “Thank you for reminding me I’m an imposition to everyone in this house, but I can’t get up.”

Without a word, he took hold of her by the shoulders, lifting her out of the chair as though she weighed nothing. He carried her up to the top of the full-sized wall facade, keeping her suspended high above the ground. Holidae clutched at his arms for dear life, her nails digging into his sleeves.

“No no no… wait, don’t… _don’t….”_ Holidae’s voice cracked.

“This is the right height to break someone’s neck, right? Or at he very least, break _something_. I could always just snap it and _then_ drop you just to make sure.” Beetlejuice’s claws ripped into her shirt as he loosened his grip. “ _Ooooh_ babydoll it has been a long time since I ended a life. Kinda miss it, you know? Lyds doesn’t really want me to hurt anyone, but since she’s not entirely _thrilled_ about you lately, she won’t mind.”

Holidae was grasping at him, trying to reach around his neck to support herself, “Beetlejuice, please don’t drop me. Just… can’t we just talk? Lydia… she told me _everything_!”

The ghost casually vanished out of her grip, reappearing on the edge of the wall connected to the decking. Holidae felt herself being suspended in mid-air, invisible hands supporting her as she was caught mid-fall. A wave of nausea made her stomach lurch as she glanced down at the ground below, a soft haze clouding the edges of her vision. One of the transparent limbs was wrapped around her throat, forcing her chin upward to look at him instead of her impending death.

“Everything?” He asked, crossing one leg over the other, “That’s a little vague, isn’t it? Better start clarifying or… I dunno, maybe I’ll just forget to keep you up. Sometimes my attention span isn’t the greatest.”

For emphasis, he snapped his fingers, and Holidae dropped a few inches before being lifted back up. Panting hard, she fought the urge to just faint right then and there, her blood pounding in her ears loud enough to muffle his voice.

It was like the carnival ride from hell.

“She… she told me about the Maitlands.” Holidae was sweating now, the cold air making her shiver. “About how she could see you, a-about her mother, the N-N-Neitherworld… and the marriage that was subsequently followed by your murder.”

Another snap of his fingers and Holidae was perched on the wall next to him. She clutched his arm for fear of falling, pulling it tight against her chest as though she could will him to stay put. The two of them sitting there would have almost painted a rather… _romantic_ picture, if not for the fact he had already made a few attempts on her life in the last five minutes.

Beetlejuice was surprisingly quiet for a long time, absently scratching a spot in the middle of his chest, “…she didn’t have to tell you _that_.”

“Lyddy just started talking, and I listened.” Holidae could feel her heart rate returning to normal, looking up at him to notice he was still sporting his violet hue. “Speaking of which: _please_ go talk to her when she gets back. She’s miserable and I can’t fix it, but I _know_ you can. Just… anything. Talk about the weather. Or some cool bug you found. _Anything_.”

“ _I don’t want to talk to her_. **She** can come talk to me.” His brow was furrowed in frustration, but his hand managed to find its way onto her thigh despite his mood. “Besides, I’m sure you two will patch things up and start gossiping about me during sleepovers or some shit.”

Holidae gave his shin a swift kick, “Asshole. No wonder you two are _bestest best_ friends; you’re both too stubborn for any sane person to tolerate. Suck it up and go make her happy.”

With an annoyed grunt, Beetlejuice dragged the girl up onto his lap, dipping her upper half low as though they were dancing, “Stupid move, kicking someone who is _literally_ holding your life in his hands. Got a death wish or something? Listen, I already went through this suicidal breather routine with Lyds, I really don’t have the capacity to care about anyone else’s problems.”

“Then stop talking about it and just fucking drop me, I’m _tired_.” She knew it was a risky move, but it he wanted her pulverized on the ground, he wouldn’t have let her keep talking.

At least, she _hoped_ that was the case.

The ghost stared at her for a long time, as if he were trying to see something on her person that would be otherwise hidden from view. She started to blush; but she wasn’t sure if it was from the intense scrutiny, or the blood starting to rush to her head from the angle she was being held. One thing she did note was that his violet coloring was fading away into his normal neon green.

“Alright, alright… dumb humans and your sense of _morality_.” Beej rolled his eyes, transporting them back to the deck. “Ugh, it gets so _old_.”

Well, in actuality _he_ was standing on solid ground, but Holidae was being held up in his grasp; just enough to have her feet dangling helplessly in the air. Even though he wasn’t _that_ much taller than she was, it was still enough of a difference to thoroughly annoy the poor woman. To add insult to injury, he started to swing her back and forth like a pendulum, causing her to wrap arms around his neck in reflex.

Her stomach did a little flip; being in such close proximity was making her feel _off_. It wasn’t the musty smell that hovered around him, as she thought as first. No, that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. And neither was his appearance in general, the _longer_ she stared at him. Even with mold growing in various spots. He was rather attact-

_Bad thought train_ , she mentally scolded herself. _Must exit._

“Can you please let me down now? I would really appreciate being able to experience gravity.” Holidae pouted, feeling her cheeks flush hot even though he was noticeably cold to the touch.

He shook his head, sticking out his _striped_ , snake-like tongue, “Pfft, who needs gravity? You’re being held in the arms of the Neitherworld’s number one bachelor. Feel honored, Holly-Berry, do you know how many undead ladies and lads would love to fill those shoes of yours? _So many_.”

Holidae was about to make a retort, when a suspiciously loud _clicking_ caught both of their attentions at the same time. Lydia was standing in the doorway to the house, camera in one hand as she waved around the newly printed polaroid in the other. Beetlejuice and Holidae glanced at each other, and then back at Lydia as she inspected the photo.

“Damn. That guy at the store lied to me.” Lydia frowned, lining up the picture next to her two still-frozen companions. “Can’t see ghosts with this film.”


	8. In Which Courtship is an Abstract Concept

The dynamic in the house started to change after the photograph was taken. 

Holidae found the image of her seemingly floating in mid air quote “ _haunted as fuck_ ”, but relented when Lydia declared her intentions to use it in her next art show. If Beetlejuice had any sort of opinion on the photograph, he kept it to himself, much more interested in the fact that Lydia seemed happy and willing to talk to him again.

The three housemates began a routine of sorts over the next few weeks: Lydia and Holidae would take care of the household chores, while BJ… really didn’t contribute anything besides the occasional prank and conversations during mealtime. He _was_ given the important task of planning their weekly movie night, which he was extremely proud of himself for excellent choices in cinema.

Nine times out of ten he would choose _The Exorcist_.

Holidae, being rather unsubtle, avoided being alone with the ghost; taking great pains to make sure Lydia was always in the room, or just outright pretending she didn’t notice him when he caught her alone. It was a childish response, she knew, but that didn’t stop her from going along with her scheme.

Lydia spent most of her time preparing for the fall art show held in the next county over from Winter River, snapping candid shots during the evening hours throughout the house, or going out to shoot some more natural subjects. Until she had finished with her collections, Holidae was stuck in a bit of design limbo; unable to try and work up plans for her friend’s exhibit without knowing the _theme_ of what Lydia was aiming for.

“You’ll know when it’s done,” Lydia told her one evening, packing up her camera to take on another visit to the local cemetery.

Holidae followed her into the front entryway, “Do you even know how big the space we need is going to be? Or how many photos this time? I can’t just… _magic_ square footage. Let me come with you, at least; just to see what you’ve been shooting?”

Lydia shrugged, “Relax. I’ll be home soon, and I’ll show you what I have so far. Besides, you have Beej to keep you company. Why don’t you read that book you got the other day? One of those trashy things full of kissy faces and torn bodices?”

“Hey, they have a plot… _sometimes_.” Holidae waved her out the door, “Don’t get eaten by zombies, I don’t want to stuff bits of you into a casket. Too sticky.”

Lydia stuck her tongue out as she closed the door behind her, leaving Holidae alone - _sort of -_ in the house for the time being. Beetlejuice hadn’t made an appearance since that morning over breakfast, but that didn’t stop the paranoia of him just… _popping_ up when she least expected him to.

Dramatically throwing herself onto the living room sofa, Holidae pulled her book out from under a stack of paperwork on the coffee table, flipping it open to the page she had dogeared earlier. Sure, her taste in literature wasn’t always going to win a Pulitzer prize, but there was nothing more satisfying than just losing all thought in a steamy, badly written romance novel. She got herself comfortable, propping her head up with a pillow, and stretching her legs out on the soft couch cushions.

Holidae was so engrossed in her novel, that she failed to noticed the sudden weight that settled itself between her legs. Beetlejuice had noticed Lydia’s departure, taking it upon himself to find some entertainment with his other living roommate. He wasn’t oblivious to the fact that Holidae had been avoiding him since the roof incident; but whether it was because of the attempted murder, or the subsequent _moment_ Lydia had caught them in afterward was hard to pinpoint.

Beetlejuice wrapped his arms around her midsection, resting his head _by accident_ of course, on the cushion of her breasts. He could feel her tensing underneath him, shifting her position, but didn’t outright attempt to move him. She merely flipped another page of her book, lifting the novel a little higher so that he had room to lay his head down.

“Okay, really? You have an dead guy with his face in your tits and you’re just going to keep reading?” Beej headbutted her sternum with force. “Pay attention to me.”

Holidae thwapped him on top of his head with her book, “Shush. It’s just getting good. Besides, what could I possible do against you? I can’t move you, I don’t have any holy water to sprinkle on you, if I make a fuss you’ll just find some other way to annoy me… have I missed anything?”

He hummed, wiggling his body against hers, “No, that pretty much covers it.”

“See?” She flipped another page.

With a pout, he snatched the book out of her hands, adjusting his position so that he was straddling her hips. She tried to get it back, but he held it up above his head, shoving her back down on the sofa with his free hand.

“What is this… oh my god, _this_ is why you’re ignoring me?” He laughed, showing off his mouthful of sharpened teeth. “ _Oh, we mustn’t meet like this~ the scandal will be too great! She cried, throwing herself onto the chaise”_

Holidae clawed at his jacket, trying to knock him off balance, “Give it back!”

In a puff of smoke, Beetlejuice was no longer sporting his favored suit, instead dressed in a striped black and white cotton shirt that was unbuttoned to the middle of his chest. A breeze somehow ruffled through his hair, adding to the dramatic effect. Holidae stuffed a pillow over her face, muffling the fit of giggles she burst into at his new appearance.

“ _Ah~ fair not, sweet dove, I have taken great pains to ensure we will not be discovered~”_ He reached down and took the pillow off her face, tossing it across the room. “It’s goddamn rude to not pay attention when someone is delivering this calibre of performance. Ahem. _Now! I beg of thee, a simple kiss will not sustain me this night.”_

Unable to contain herself, Holidae clutched her stomach in laughter, cackling at his theatrical display. She didn’t know _why_ it was so funny to her; by all accounts it wasn’t the most unique humor, but _something_ about him just set her off into a fit.

“Oh my God/Satan… I did it!” Beej stopped his recitation, tossing the book over his shoulder, and grabbing Holidae’s face with both hands. “I got you laughing. Geez, I didn’t think you had a sense of humor for a while, ya know? The whole uptight anxiety ball thing.”

She tried to pry herself out of his grasp, feeling his icy hands squish her cheeks, “Maybe you just aren’t funny most of the time. Let go, your hands are all dirty.”

“What? Dirty? Me? Excuse you, but I am not merely _dirty_. I am _gross_ and _proud_. Look at me, baby; look at how gross. Really get in there up close and appreciate it.” He pulled her head closer, rubbing his scratchy beard stubble against her cheek. “Takes _years_ of work. My morning beauty routine is legendary. Oh~ you’re warm. Nothing like a warm body sometimes, you know what I mean?”

“No no no. Stop. Don’t. I’m **allergic** to mold.” Holidae squirmed around, feeling his fluff of hair start to tickle her nose. “You want my lungs collapsing in on themselves? What are you going to tell Lyddy when she finds me puffy and dying? **Get** **off**.”

“Oh, I am _definitely_ trying to do just _that_ , Holiday Greetings,” Beetlejuice doubled his efforts, going so far as to _lick_ a stripe of skin from her jaw to her ear, “You’ll be fine, that stuff hasn’t grown for years. You know what _does_ grow? It’s my-”

“Don’t you dare. I mean it. You finish that sentence and I’ll kick you square in the crotch.” She managed to free one of her hands, covering his mouth with her palm. “Don’t test me, Juice.”

The demon gave a sharp bite against the flesh of her hand, causing her to yelp and move away, “My _hair.”_

Holidae had expected _many_ inappropriate endings to his sentence. Most of them concerned the area she had threatened with violence just moments beforehand, but nothing prepared her for the sheer audacity of the response he actually gave. She had walked _right into_ his joke, and proved that _she_ was the one thinking unwholesome thoughts about his anatomy.

Beetlejuice 1, Holidae -100

Taking her silence in stride, Beetlejuice snapped his fingers, setting the two of them in a more comfortable position on the sofa, and changing back into his normal attire. Of course, _his_ idea of comfortable was having Holidae perched on his lap with one hand pressing against her lower back, and the other holding her thigh… to _balance_. Didn’t want her to fall on the coffee table.

“Holli,” Beetlejuice tried to put on his best stern expression, “You were thinking I was going to say something naughty, weren’t you? For shame! What kind of influence are you having on my bestest best friend? What kind of upbringing did you have to think such thoughts about me? No, seriously, I want to find your parents and thank them.”

“You have my undivided attention, _Lawrence_ , don’t waste it. Now, what can I do for you? Are you bored? I can get you one of my books to read. Or there’s a pack of cards in Lyddy’s room.” Holidae blinked slowly, reaching out and brushing a stray curl off of his forehead without much thought.

The reaction was _instant_.

Beetlejuice’s hand snapped up and grabbed Holidae’s wrist before she could pull away, and he _stared_ at her intently. Small, thin strips of pink highlights started to run through his hair, swirling around in a mix of green and dark emerald. Unsure of what he was thinking, Holidae stayed still and quiet, not wanting a repeat of the last time he held her with such intensity.

He still held her fast, shrugging in a very _trying-to-be-nonchalant-and-failing_ manner, “Nothing. Just didn’t want you to have any peace and quiet.”

She frowned, watching the pink continue to invade his hairline, “There were easier ways of doing that.”

“Yeah, but not as fun.” He pulled her dangerously close, almost touching noses with her.

For a moment, Holidae was swept into the sudden… _whatever_ this moment was. Romance? Flirtation? …awkward social convention? Her eyes fluttered closed, and she leaned forward to close the distance…

…right before she was met with a face full of sofa cushion.

Beetlejuice had _literally_ disappeared out from under her like a bad magic trick.


	9. In Which Closeness is a Matter of Perspective

“Lyddy, when I said I would help you with the art show, I meant things like… carrying equipment. Or getting props. Maybe picking up extra film.” Holidae subtly tried to adjust the position of her foot, pins and needles already crawling along her skin. “Being a model is _not on that list_.”

Lydia walked over, kicking Holidae’s foot back into place, “You _are_ helping. Hold still, you keep twitching and get all blurry.”

Infinitely thankful that they were quite alone in the cemetery that afternoon, Holidae muttered under breath, trying her best to hold the poses as Lydia commanded them. She was wrapped in several layers of sheer black organza, designed to mimic a sort of mourning gown with a bit of wedding charm thrown in for flavor. The result was surprisingly effective, but did _nothing_ to stave off the cold autumn weather, and Holidae could already feel her extremities freezing over. She _did_ promise Lydia she would help her a photo shoot, _and_ she learned a valuable lesson about not trusting the small photographer as far as she could throw her.

“I think my fingers are frozen. They’re blue,” Holidae leaned against the nearby headstone for support.

“So are your lips, now hush.” Lydia maneuvered herself around the other girl, the camera shutter firing rapidly. “Lean back like you’re just overwhelmed with grief.”

“I’m overwhelmed with _something_ ,” Holidae tried to do as she was told, dipping her body backwards as far as she could. “This good?”

“More.” Another series of clicks.

Holidae wobbled, catching herself on the headstone, “I don’t bend that much.”

“Try,” Lydia came over and tried to balance her friend, who promptly caught her funny bone on the granite grave marker.

“Fuck you, _you_ try!” Holidae hissed in pain, rubbing her elbow furiously. “Or you best pay a chiropractor.”

Lydia went back to her equipment, fiddling around with some different lenses, and giving Holidae a much needed break before they tried again. This wasn’t the first time she had roped her friend into posing for her photos, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last despite protests from the model. No matter what Lydia would try and get her to do, or how she would dress her up, Holidae would just go along with it. It was like having a doll to dress-up and torture in creative ways.

The only request Holidae ever made was that her face never be in full view, and Lydia always respected her wish. Whether it be a large hat brim, or in today’s case a veil, Holidae was kept away from curious eyes. The truth of the matter was Holidae was _embarrassed_ of her looks, and always had been. Self-esteem was a rough, bumpy road to traverse; and there were good and bad days.

It was a touchy subject, and Lydia never pushed it.

Lydia tapped her fingernails on her camera bag, trying to think of a solution to the posing problem. After a few minutes, she let out an _ah-ha_ , getting up and brushing some leaves off of her skirt. In one quick breath, she spoke her ghostly best friend’s name three times in a row, summoning him outside of the house for a change.

Beetlejuice looked happier than he’d been in a while, smiling ear to ear, and picking up the small girl with a twirl, “Lyds! We’re in a graveyard! What’s the special occasion? Someone die? Someone _needing_ to die? Picking out a good plot? Don’t get one by a tree or the roots will get all gnarly and stick into your casket.”

Laughing as he set her down, she shook her head, “No, I need a favor, but nothing that major.”

He stuck his hands in his overcoat pockets, looking like a noir film detective, “Anything for you, babes.”

“I need you to bend Holidae over,” Lydia said pointing over to the woman desperately trying to warm herself up.

BJ did a double take so hard there was an audible _crack_ of his neck, “… _do what now_?”

“Balance issues. If you go over there and help, I can get the pose I want and you won’t show up in the picture. It’ll look super cool, trust me. Just go over and she’ll explain what I want.” Lydia waved him away, unconcerned with her phrasing.

There was a moment of hesitation on Beetlejuice’s part; not really sure if this whole thing was a setup in some way that would get him banished forever, or something _worse_. Well, if Lydia wanted him to be a helpful little demon, who was he to argue with such an opportunity.

Humming to himself, he flourished his stroll over to Holidae with a spin, “Oh, what have we here? Getting all dressed up just for me, Holly-hock? I just _adore_ the shade of blue on your skin.”

Holidae tried to straighten herself up, covering the more see-through parts of the draping with her arms, “W-what are you doing o-out h-here? F _uck it’s cold_.”

Beej pulled her tight against him, “Body heat is the best solution of hypothermia, right?”

“Not when you’re an ice cube!” She shivered, torn between accepting his offer and freezing to death right then and there.

“Hey! Less flirting, more posing!” Lydia barked at the two of them. “Save that stuff for indoors, it’s gross. He’s there to hold you up so you don’t bash your head open on the rock.”

“Lydia, you say one more word and I’m throwing your camera off the bridge.” Holidae pried herself out of his arms, readjusting him so that he would support her back. “If you drop me, you’re dead.”

Beej snickered, giving her flesh a hard pinch, “Already dead, baby.”

“Smartass.” Holidae grit her teeth, but bent back with her arms splayed our behind her, “And I am _fully_ aware that you’re getting a good view of my cleavage, so don’t even start with me.”

“I am getting Lyds the _best_ birthday gift this year,” Beetlejuice made a very obvious show of studying Holidae’s chest.

Over the next hour, Lydia would move her two companions in different ways, getting the most out of the fact BJ wouldn’t show up in the film. It saved a lot of money on expensive photo editing programs; but it was also just a fun way to spend the afternoon together in a new environment. When things would get too serious, Beetlejuice would make some face at Holidae to get her laughing, ruining the next few shots Lydia took until they could compose themselves. Or, at least Lydia was _claiming_ they were ruined.

She wasn’t about to tell them the truth: those candid shots were not being deleted off her camera.

During one of their breaks, Holidae sat herself down on a blanket Lydia had spread out her camera equipment on to keep it from getting dirty, holding her knees to her chest in efforts to keep warm. Without warning, something was dropped onto her head, mussing her hair as she pulled it down. It was a dirty, ratty grey coat. Stained and stitched together in odd places, carrying the heavy scent of tobacco and musty earth.

Strangely enough, it _was_ warmer than she thought it would be, and she wrapped it around her body as best she could, “You might want to wash this once in a while. Maybe just spot clean.”

Beetlejuice flopped down next to her, digging a pack of smokes from the coat pocket, “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it back. **Ungrateful**.”

She shook her head, burying herself deeper into the oversized clothing, “No no, I want it. I was just offering a suggestion. Thank you for not letting me freeze, I mean it. _Honest_.”

He took a long drag, the smoke hanging in the air due to the weather, “Eh, dying is what it is. Done it twice, not that exciting.”

Holidae looked around at the tombstones surrounding them, “Do you think these people would have the same opinion? What if _they_ died doing something exciting?”

“I really don’t feel like digging them up and asking,” He shrugged, holding the cigarette between his teeth. “So what’s Lydia gonna do with all these photos anyway? Seems weird.”

“She keeps telling me she has a theme, but doesn’t want to jinx it with discussion and negative thoughts. I swear, she takes after her stepmother more than she wants to admit.” She picked at the blades of grass by her feet, “I just put up the pictures when they’re done.”

“Well, since she can’t have me as a model, at least she has something decent to work with.” He flipped the edge of the coat up, peeking at her sheer dress. “You’re not as beautiful and sexy as I am, but then again, _nobody_ is.”

Holidae scooted backwards, tucking the coat back tight around her, “Hey, you’ll let the heat out! And good on you for self-confidence, but calling yourself sexy all the time is _weird_.”

Beetlejuice grabbed her by the ankles, dragging her back toward him, “Are you saying I’m _not_ sexy?”

She was getting tangled in the coat, looking like an unhappy caterpillar, “No, I said that _calling yourself_ sexy is weird. I would really appreciate you listening when I talk to you, Juice. I don’t just say things to hear myself prattle on.”

With a truly _maniacal_ laugh, Beetlejuice jumped up, picking up Holidae in a bridal-style carry, and spun her around with a flourish. “ _Youuuuu think I’m sexy. You think I’m seeeexy~”_

He set her back on her feet, leaving her to balance herself after all the spinning, and ran over to find Lydia.

“Lyds! Lyds, listen listen listen~ you’re friend said I’m sexy. Now you have to take back all those times you said I was only referring to myself as a sexual being to hide the fact that I have a lack of positive self esteem from a childhood borne of neglect. _HA!_ Wait. Why are you running from me? Lydia!”


	10. In Which Occams' Razor is Proven Correct

In the almost two months since moving into the house with Lydia and Beetlejuice, Holidae had yet to venture beyond the second floor. 

She was aware there was a massive attic space, that Lydia’s family had a few things stored up there for safekeeping, but it was wholly underused in the grand scheme of the floor plan. Holidae vaguely remembered Lydia saying something about wanting to convert it into a dark room at some point, but nothing else. It was just _there_. A set of steps leading off into the abyss as far as she was concerned.

So it was quite the surprise when Lydia sent Holidae up to the attic to rummage around for photo props for her latest brilliant scheme.

“Just go find something… I dunno. _Haunted_ looking.” Lydia had instructed before retreating back into her bedroom.

Holidae trudged up the surprisingly steep set of stairs, barely even touching the doorknob before it swung open, almost beckoning her inside. She was getting used to the creepy nature of the house by then, merely shutting the door behind her with a quiet click.

The space _was_ huge, but not as empty as Lydia had claimed. An old, patched up sleeper sofa was unfolded into a bed in the far corner, accompanied by a dresser and a large mirror. A rack of clothes was stuffed up against the wall, doing a poor job of hiding the piles of meticulous marked cardboard boxes that lined the walls. Unfinished works of “art” sat collecting dust on the opposite side of the room. With a little work, it could have been converted into a rather spacious guest room, but it was far too shabby to house anyone _now_.

Holidae’s attention was drawn to the clothing rack, seeing an array of colorful dresses - _Delia’s, no doubt -_ and some smaller, darker clothes: most likely Lydia’s old hand-me-downs. She sifted through the clothing idly, making the occasional face at the more gaudy ensembles, until she came upon… a man’s suit. It was hidden so well in between the other garments, she would have passed it by completely if she hadn’t been paying attention.

She pulled out the suit, shaking some dust off of the lapels, and inspected it carefully. The jacket and pants were a deep, but _loud_ , red color; stained with grime that turned patches of fabric a sickly gray, stitched with thread that didn’t match any color on the suit. A ruffled shirt completely the look: again, a garish red, but a rusty hued stain had soaked into the front of it, a good sized rip disrupting the button line.

Furrowing her brow, Holidae stood in front of the mirror, holding up the suit next to her for height reference, “Hm. Too short for Mr. Deetz…”

A small whiff of tobacco smoke was the only warning she had before the suit was ripped from her hands, and she was shoved backwards toward the center of the room with _force_. It took some ungraceful, wobbly steps, but she managed to regain her center of gravity. Beetlejuice stood in the place she once was, crushing the suit against his chest in a vice-like grip, his hair matching the red of the fabric, his expression _terrifying_.

“Who the _fuck_ gave you permission to come up here and go through _my_ shit?” His gravely voice was low, reverberating deep in his chest.

Holidae held up her hands in defense, “Whoa, wait! I had _zero_ idea of your stuff being up here! Lydia told me to get something for her, that’s all.”

“She told you to get this?” He held up the suit, “This _specific_ thing that was _hidden_ from view?”

“Well, no…” She started to chew on her bottom lip, feeling the pit of her stomach drop. “She said to get something haunted, so I was looking around through the clothes because most of them are frankly hideous, and it was on the rack. How was I supposed to know you wore anything besides stripes for god’s sake? I don’t think you have the right to be so _angry_ about something like this.”

Beetlejuice didn’t seem impressed with her ramblings, putting the suit back in its place before advancing on her like an animal, “ _I don’t have the right?”_

Despite him now looming over her, she stood her ground, “It was an honest mistake.”

His hands wrapped themselves around her neck, his thumbs pressing up into the bottom of her jaw, “Honest mistake, she says, like I would just _believe you_. You know what _else_ could be called an honest mistake? Snapping your neck before you could even take a last breath. Oh no, what a shame, I didn’t _mean_ to murder her. It was an _honest mistake_.”

“N-no, an honest mistake would be more akin to forcing your bestest best friend to marry you under duress and then realizing the whole affair was a waste because if you would have just sat down and talked things over you could have been happier _faster_.” Holidae could feel her pulse pounding under her skin, pressing against the force of his hands. “I know a _tuxedo_ when I see one.”

Beetlejuice squeezed harder, earning him a gasp from his captive, “You are so _mouthy_ today, Holli. Where’s all this coming from, huh? Do you think we’re _friends_ Holli? That we have some sort of _understanding_? What makes you think I haven’t been fucking with you this whole time because I’m _bored out of my skull_? Wait wait… don’t tell me… you think I feel something for you other than utter _contempt_ , right? You’re _alive_. I _exterminate_ living things as a job.”

“…did anyone ever tell you that you can’t lie for shit?” Holidae choked out, her eyes starting to water with effort to breathe.

The muscles in his jaw twitched, and he eased up on his grasp, “…I lie all the time, babes.”

“Exactly, but you’re bad at it.” She reached her hands up, grabbing hold of his forearms. “If you didn’t care about the living as much as you claim, you wouldn’t have kept a constant reminder of a time when you were one of us.”

“Ugggh, _damn_.” Beetlejuice released her completely, walking over to sit on the edge of the fold-out bed.

Holidae waited a moment before following him, watching as his coloring turned from red to a dull violet, sitting with his face in his hands. Still leery, she crept over, standing over him in quiet contemplation.

“…don’t tell Lyds.” He finally spoke, running his hands down his face with a sigh.

“About the suit?” She asked, gesturing behind him to the clothing rack.

“No, about the fact I haven’t dusted up here in weeks. _Yes about the suit_.” Beej groaned, leaning over and resting his head against her thigh. “I know she already feels bad about the whole… _stabbing_ thing. I don’t want to make it worse for her.”

“Tell you what; no more murder attempts, and I’ll keep your secret.” One of her hands reached down and patted him on the head; surprised by how soft his hair felt despite it’s messy nature. “Deal?”

Almost instinctively, he leaned into her soft touches, “Deal. **Weirdo**.”

“Me? I’m the **weirdo**? Uhh, pot calling kettle there, sir.” Holidae protested, tapping on his skull with her fingertips, “Mind elaborating for me?”

Beetlejuice put his hands around her waist, pulling her down onto the bed beside him, and rested his head on her soft stomach. Holidae made a small noise at the sudden shift of view, but let him do as he pleased for the moment. Her hand went back to absently petting his hair, seeing pink mix with the violet.

“I’m a literal _demon_ who just threatened your life _again_ , and you didn’t have the self preservation to like… run away. You’re weird. Like Lydia is weird… but you’re _different_ weird.” His clawed fingers, unsubtle as he was, slipped under the hem of her shirt, feeling the warm skin underneath.

“Okay, I’ll give you that. Ahh~ _cold hands.”_ She squirmed uncomfortably.

“Cold hands? _Where_?” He sat up, pulling her shirt up and over her bra to expose more of her skin, rolling her back and forth to check all sides of her. “I don’t see any cold hands under here. I think you’re losing it, Holidae; finally going **mad**! It’s the curse of this house.”

“Or maybe it was a jerkass ghost.” Holidae flailed helplessly, completely undone and laughing until she was out of breath, “S-stop!”

Beej continued running his hands all over her exposed flesh, pinching and dragging his claws to leave little white marks, “I’m trying to get those cold hands off of you, hold still! You’re clearly in distress and need my help, babydoll, your face is all red… you must be _terrified_ , right? Don’t you worry about a thing. **Aha**!”

He dove down as he lifted her midsection off the bed, catching some skin between his teeth and biting sharply, the flesh immediately red and starting to bruise when he pulled away. Holidae couldn’t hold back the _noise_ that left her throat; a soft keening whine breaking through the laughter. It startled her, and she clamped a hand down over her mouth to muffle herself, watching as those molten gold eyes of his turn dark.

“Oh? Care to repeat that, Holli? Didn’t quite catch it…” Beetlejuice grinned wide, leaning down for another attack.

_Knock_

_Knock  
Knock_

“Holli? Didn’t know if you got eaten by the monster octopus that lives up here. Should have warned you about Captain Tentacles, my bad.” Lydia’s voice echoed from the other side of the door, just as the knob started to turn.


	11. In Which Secrets are Unsavory Things

Holidae managed to pull her shirt down, covering her nearly-bare torso, but more importantly the red, angry teeth marks before the door opened. Attempted to sit upright and regain some dignity in the face of impending embarrassment, she was thwarted by Beetlejuice who held her down with a hand on her pelvis. It wasn’t a rough gesture by any means, his fingers were spread out and applying the barest pressure. Strangely intimate, all things considered.

Lydia was frozen in the doorway, her hand still grasping the doorknob, her eyes bouncing between the girl on the bed and the demon holding her down. From her angle, the entire picture didn’t paint BJ in a positive light, seeing as he was physically larger than Holidae in several ways. Her brain kicked into instinct mode, witnessing her friend being _seemingly assaulted_ by something couldn’t begin to overpower.

In one breath, Lydia spit out the familiar words, “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!”

A strangled noise followed him into the Neitherworld, as though he had been trying to say something as he was pulled down into the abyss. Holidae scrambled off of the bed, nearly tripping on a loose floorboard in the process.

“What the _hell_ Lyddy!?” Holidae tugged the ends of her hair in frustration, trying to make sense of the last 60 seconds of her life. “ _Why_ … why would…”

“Are you okay?” Lydia rushed over, checking for any obvious signs of injury, “Holli, are you hurt? Why are there bruises on your neck?”

Holidae reflexively tried to pull collar of her shirt up, “I’m _fine_. It’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about save for the fact you just… I dunno, what’s the female version of cockblocking?”

Lydia stopped her examination, giving her an unimpressed look, “I think it’s gender neutral. Doesn’t matter; the point is that you looked upset and he was all over you. Well, more than _usual_. I had to do something!”

“Yeah, well… it wasn’t _unwelcome_.” Holidae’s face was beet-red, and she started avoiding direct eye contact. “He was… I was… w-we were fine! Everything was good. No problems. _None._ I… I _like_ the attention. I like… being… I dunno. _Desired.”_

“Holli…” Lydia sighed, “He isn’t some guy trying to pick you up in a bar. He’s dead, sort of. **Demonic**.”

“So? I’ve seen the people you go out with, Lyddy, not all _winners_.” She scoffed, running a hand through her hair.

With an annoyed huff, Lydia took her friend by the arm and sat her down on the fold out sofa. Holidae sat there cross legged, resting her elbows on her knees like a petulant teenager, waiting for the scolding to begin. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, the petite woman paced the room, trying to decided how best to discuss the delicate topic.

She knew no matter _how_ she said it, it was going to put some cracks into her friend’s heart; get her angry enough to maybe leave the house, which is the _last_ thing she wanted. They had been close for so many years, it was painful to think of intentionally making the other upset. Mentally weighing all her options, Lydia decided not to bring down the hammer as hard as she intended to at the start of her conversation.

Save the heavy artillery for another day. 

“Beej might be nice… _now_ , but he’s not **good**. He’s not going to take you on dates, or buy you gifts, or be… _something_ he isn’t just because he likes you: for _now.”_ Lydia spoke quietly, cautiously picking every word before it left her mouth.

Holidae’s eyes narrowed, her teeth worrying her bottom lip, “You don’t know-”

“Yes, I do know.” Lydia cut her off, “I have had to listen to him go on and on about his sexual prowess. All the partners he had through the ages. He _never_ talks about the same person more than once. Conquests, Holli, not girlfriends or boyfriends. Or other demons that I am not sure on if they even _have_ genders, but he’s mentioned _things_.”

“… _things_?” the anger momentarily left Holidae’s face.

“ _Nevermind_. The point I am miserably failing to make is that this whole thing _won’t_ turn out the way you want it.” Lydia’s voice grew quiet, a more serious tone folding over the words. “I’m not going to sit here and watch you _repeat_ -”

“Okay, okay! I _get_ it.” One of Holidae’s hands started scratching at the other, a clear sign she was getting anxious. “I know you wouldn’t… you wouldn’t be telling me all this to be a bitch. I trust you, Lyddy, but I wish you would trust _me_ to know when things are going too far. That… that stuff was _years_ ago. I would hope I’ve leveled out since then.”

The other girl sighed, shrugging her shoulders, “I wouldn’t call you leveled out, but you’re more reasonable.”

“… _bitch_.” Holidae let out a short laugh, although her hands refused to keep still. “Sorry you saw… stuff.”

“Are you kidding? That was _nothing._ I’ve seen him wandering around the kitchen in his boxers.” Lydia shook her head, sitting down on the bed next to her friend.

“Boxers aren’t that bad.” Holidae’s brow furrowed as she tried to picture it. “He’s not _terrible_ to look at.”

“…they had _holes_.” The reply was flat.

Sputtering, Holidae broke out in laughter at the other girl’s expression; although she tried her best to keep a straight face, Lydia couldn’t hold back her own giggles, and the two of them clutched each other for support. After a while, their mirth died down enough for them to try and compose themselves. Holidae was subtly trying to massage the bite on her stomach, the spot irritated by the use of her stomach muscles. The smaller girl waved her hands to cool her face down, the redness contrasting brightly against her pale skin.

“Holli, you know I love you, but your taste in men is _questionable_. I mean, ughh, he’s so _gross_ sometimes.” Lydia stated, attempting to re-adjust the barrette in her inky black hair. “Not to mention the smell.”

Holidae lightly punched her in the shoulder, “ **Hey**. He makes me laugh, okay? I don’t know what it is about him… sometimes I just _forget_ that he’s technically dead, and he’s just some good looking guy with eccentric fashion choices who can float around … _wait_ , what smell? The smoke? It’s not bitter like regular tobacco, so I can deal. Allergies aren’t bothered.”

“Not the cigarettes,” Lydia blinked at her, “ _He_ smells. Like. Not horrendous, but it’s definitely like when you forget to take the garbage out and have to wait until the next pickup in a few days. I don’t know how you can be so close to him for so long.”

There was a notable pause before Holidae replied, “…he doesn’t smell like that to me. _At all_. He smells like he rolled around in garden dirt. It’s weird, but not offensive.”

“Well, that would explain it… kinda. Maybe I should read the handbook again.” Lydia got up, pulling Holidae along with her toward the stairwell. “In fact, maybe _you_ should read it. Might have a chapter in there about what to do if you’re lusting after a ghost. Good ways to set a romantic mood with your _spectral partner_ ~”

“Shut up!” Holidae whined, following her down the stairs.

“What to do in case part of your dead lover start falling off….”

“ _LYDDY_.”


	12. In Which Phrasing is Key

According to the pitch-black darkness outside, it was late. 

Holidae stared at herself in the mirror, fidgeting around and trying to psych herself up for what she was about to do. She was happy that Lydia had gone to bed hours ago, satisfied that she would be too deep into slumber to be awoken by any clandestine conversations. It had been several days since their heart to heart in the attic, and neither of them had been the first to summon back their resident ghost. An unspoken stalemate between the two women, not out of anger, but out of reluctance.

“Okay, Holli, you can do this. You can be firm _and_ fair. Just… tell him…” She pointed sternly at her reflection, as though giving herself a lecture. “You look into those gold- **yellow. Gross yellow.** Eyes and you tell him that you want to take things easy. _Ease into things_. Take it slow and steady. Not getting crazy. Keeping our wits about us.”

Leaning forward, she tapped on the mirror glass, “You are a grown ass woman, how hard can this be?”

After a beat, she slumped over on the vanity, groaning in frustration, “…who are you kidding, Holidae? You’re going to crumble like a ruin.”

Holidae stood upright, beginning to pace the room, tugging at the end of her nightshirt. There was no point in delaying it anymore, was there? The longer she put off the conversation, the more her overall resolve would weaken until there would be no conversation to be had.

Taking a breath, she spoke into the empty air, “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice… _Beetlejuice_?”

There was no crash of lightning or billowing smoke as she had expected; he just _materialized_ in the middle of her bedroom, taking a few steps before realizing the scenery had changed. Beetlejuice had been tearing around the Neitherworld; angry that he was so _helpless_ in situations like this. There was no way for him to appear in the mortal realm without a summons, and the only two people in the world who could see him had been refusing to bring him back.

His entire form was stained red as he took note of his surroundings, whirling around to spot Holidae staring at him quietly. She looked so small in that moment, not buried under layers of intentionally baggy clothing, dressed in a ragged shirt and long pants; her hands picking at the stray thread at the hem.

“Where’s Lyds?” Beej finally asked, brushing something off his sleeve.

“Sleeping.” Holidae shifted her weight back slightly.

He chuckled, “ _Oooh,_ sneaking around and summoning ghosts behind her back? Shady. I love it.”

Beetlejuice brushed past her, going over to examine the objects around the room, making a point of ignoring her completely. One particular object caught his attention, his clawed fingers dragging across the familiar pages, taking note of the bookmarked passages.

“How did you get the book open? Got another dead guy hanging around?” Beetlejuice turned glanced at her, tempted to shut the Handbook in spite. “Trying to find a way to get rid of me for good?”

“ _Recently Deceased_ is a really vague term once you think about it. One of the houseplants died and she pried it open with one of the stems.” Holidae explained, crossing the room to join him. “They really should take at a look at phrasing once in a while and revise that Handbook. There are so many loopholes. Lawyer’s dream text.”

Beetlejuice abruptly moved away before she could get too close to his back, spinning on his heels to face her head on, his hand covering part of his chest, “I take it you’ve done a little light readin’, Jolly Holiday? Did we find out anything interesting? Exorcisms? Seances? You could have just asked _me_ about stuff like that, you know. A **genuine** denizen of the Neitherworld.”

“I don’t want to exorcise anyone! If it’s anything like the movie, I want no part of it. No sir. Too sticky and gross and ugghhh…” Holidae made a face, trying to hold back the involuntary dry heave as she recalled the film. “Nevermind. _Listen_. We need to have a serious discussion.”

“A serious discussion? Oh… well, in that case, we need to be in a _serious_ mood.” He nodded, “But we can’t be serious like this. This calls for a more _adult_ theme.”

With a snap of his fingers, he transported the two of them onto Holidae’s bed. Beej was settled against the headboard, and Holidae was facing him while straddled over his lap. His hands were holding onto her waist; fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt to keep her balanced. Holidae tried to pry herself out of his grip, or at least move his hand so it wasn’t pressing against her green-yellow bruises.

“Hey, I mean it when I say it’s serious, _Lawrence.”_ She thought the use of his proper name would get her point across. “Lydia and I were talking when you left…”

No longer covered in his angry red hue, his tone was turning more azure by the moment, “Yeah? And what, pray tell, does that have to do with my beautiful self?”

Falling silent, she tried to think of the best way to speak her peace without upsetting him, staring at his necktie as if it held all the answers she required, “Is it true you’re promiscuous?”

Not the most _tactful_ way to phrase the question, but it was the only thing that sprang to mind. The ghost blinked at her slowly… once, twice… before wetting his lips with a _**noticeably**_ long tongue. Holidae caught the last bit of he before it went back into his mouth, momentarily distracted by the appendage. Her resolve was already failing and they hadn’t even _started_ talking.

“Loaded question, babes.” Beetlejuice’s voice was low, and he pulled her in a bit closer. “What brought up my sexual history?”

“It… may or may not have been implied that you are prone to sleeping around for fun.” Holidae’s pulse jumped, already regretting her whole plan. “Which… is something I’m not… I mean. It’s fine, do what you want, I’m not going to judge. I’m not your _keeper_. I just… it’s not something… wait, that’s not going to sound right. I-I-I don’t know what… _how… to do this.”_

“Whoa whoa… hey now, take a breath. That’s something breathers need to do. It’s in your name.” He let go of her waist, bringing his hands to the sides of her face. “Whew, you’re a little toasty there. I think you’re circuits are frying, ya know? I’ve seen spontaneous combustion and it is _not_ pretty. Chunks everywhere. Don’t do that.”

Taking a few hiccuping breaths, Holidae tried to get her mind back on track, “ _I don’t sleep around_!”

“Why are you so **fixated** on this- wait. _Wait wait wait_. Let me take a wild stab in the dark and say that my bestest best friend just _happened_ to let slip my sex life _after_ she happened to catch us together? Even though we weren’t even doing anything _fun_ yet. Trust me, you’ll _know_ when the good stuff happens.” He ran a hand through his fluff of hair, the color shifting from blue to deep green in moments. “What did she say?”

Holidae was picking at his necktie now, rolling the fabric between her fingers, “…that you’ve never talked about the same partner twice.”

He rolled his eyes, knocking his skull against the headboard, “Ugggh. Wow. Could she have picked the _worst phrasing_ or what? I just tell her that kinda stuff to gross her out. It’s _fun_. If she wouldn’t get all squidgy about it, I would find something else to talk about. Do _you_ like hearing about your friend’s sex lives in graphic detail? …wait, if you do, that is actually a very attractive quality and I would like to know more.”

She shook her head vehemently, “No no, that stuff isn’t my business.”

“Annnnnnd that is why it’s so fun to annoy Lyds with my sordid sexual conquests. She gets all _weird_ and throws stuff at me, it’s hilarious.” Beej’s hands settled on her thighs this time, his claws tapping lightly in random patterns. “So you got the impression that I was just gonna pull the old _money’s on the dresser_ routine with you?”

Nodding, Holidae was still fiddling with his tie, keeping usually focused and quiet.

“Did you summon me here with the intention of telling me we shouldn’t fuck if that’s all I wanted?” He pinched her leg, trying to get her attention.

“Ow,” She dropped the tie, rubbing her sore skin. “I would have said it more politely, but yeah.”

With a toothy grin, Beetlejuice tossed her on the bed next to him, rolling over her and pinning her to the mattress. He pressed his face into the crook of her neck, feeling her pulse flutter underneath the skin, nipping along the vein with his teeth.

“There are plenty of other things we could do, ya know. Why jump to the main course without _savoring_ the appetizers?” He laughed, sticking his hand under her shirt, gliding along until he could feel the slightly raised bruises. “Could give you another one of _these_ as a little treat, hm?”

“N-no, that’s not… what I meant.” Holidae panted softly, trying to gather up the will to stop herself from giving up too easy.

“I know.” He ran his tongue along her collar bone, dipping below the fabric of her shirt. “You’re adorable, you know that? I can _hear_ that brain of yours firing on all cylinders wondering _how_ you can get it through to me. But don’t you see, Holidae, you don’t _need_ to. I know _exactly_ what you’re afraid of, and surprise surprise, I’m _not_ that kinda demon. You gotta trust me, babes.”

Holidae slipped her hand into his hair, gently pulling him away from her neck, watching as his eyes turned darker and his head leaned into her touch. He seemed sincere through his words; his deep, gravely voice somehow soothing her fears like a balm.

“Lydia’s going into town for the weekend, some photography camp out in the woods.” Holidae whispered, lightly scratching his scalp with her nails.

He let out a sound that reminded her of a large animal purring deep in its chest, “It’s a _date_.”


	13. In Which the Mind is a Terrible Thing to Use

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1

Time was a weird concept when you were dead. 

Minutes, hours, days: none of them really had any meaning anymore. They were just arbitrary things that kept the mortal realm in line, dictating the daily lives of those still living in it. The Neitherworld time difference was one of the hardest things for the Recently Deceased to grasp upon entry, and it was part of Beetlejuice’s job as a guide to break it down in simple terms. Congrats! You’re dead, do what you want because you’re here _forever_. Take up a hobby or something, it makes the days go by faster.

When he was in the mortal realm, he never really paid attention to the passage of time, but he knew it _happened_.

It had been dark when Holidae had dragged him topside, and now her room was brighter with sunlight peeking through dark curtains. He wondered if Holidae even realized time had passed that much, since she had her nose buried in the Handbook for a while now. She had let him sit with her this whole time, occasionally leaning against his shoulder to find a more comfortable reading position.

When he realized it was already nearing the middle of the day, he offered to leave her alone so that she could sleep, something he _knew_ breathers had to do, “Hey, your eyes are gonna cross if you keep that up. Go to bed or something, I gotta check on a project back on the Other Side anyway.”

Holidae looked up from her reading, blinking at him to let her eyes adjust, “You’re leaving me?”

Beetlejuice had been lighting up a cigarette, but her question made him pause, the unlit smoke hanging from the corner of his mouth. Something in that tone of voice was… _familiar_. A little nagging worm in the back of his mind that he couldn’t quite pin down.

“I won’t stay away too long, babes. You won’t even miss me that much.” He chuckled, resuming his task and taking a long drag, puffing out jagged little smoke heart in her direction. “I know how eager you are to have me all to yourself. I don’t blame you; all this sexiness within arm’s reach for so long… your willpower it amazing, ya know?”

Frowning, she waved the smoke away, “Not going to miss the crushing weight of your ego, that’s for damn sure.”

Chuckling, Beej snapped his fingers, vanishing with a soft _pop_. Holidae rolled her eyes, sliding off the bed and going over to check the alarm clock on the dresser, wincing when she noticed it was already the _afternoon_. Hearing movement from downstairs, she quickly changed out of her pajamas, heading down to see what Lydia was up to.

Lydia was by the front door, one foot planted firmly on the top of an overstuffed suitcase as she attempted to close it, struggling with the zipper. Holidae skipped down the stairs two at a time, going over to kneel down and help to make sure nothing was being caught in the closure.

“Jesus, Lyddy, you’re going away for one night. Do you really need all this stuff?” Holidae mumbled, stuffing a frilly lace skirt back inside the suitcase. “Are you going for a fashion show?”

“Hey, you never know what can happen in the uninhabited part of the woods at night. What if some cryptid comes out and want to borrow an evening look? I’m not going to be _rude_ , Holli.” Lydia snickered, managing to secure the small padlock on the closure.

Laughing, Holidae helped to lift the suitcase up onto its wheels, “I can’t argue with that logic. Just make sure you take the dress to the dry cleaner’s afterwards. Might have fleas.”

“Speaking of fleas, it’s your turn for chores this weekend. I’ve already seen this house looking like a Halloween haunt once, don’t let it happen without me, okay?” Lydia grabbed the car keys of the entryway table, dragging the suitcase behind her as she headed outside.

———

Holidae spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning the house from top to bottom; mainly not wanting to incur Lydia’s wrath should the house get another inch of dust before she returned, but it also served to take her mind off of _other_ things. Her sudden burst of confidence in inviting her ghostly roommate to spend the weekend with her… _alone…_ she wasn’t normally such a _forward_ person. Her brain was having a time of it; trying to decide if she should try and politely rescind the invitation, or just jump in with both feet.

Reading the Handbook hadn’t really done much to ease her fears, seeing as there was absolutely _no_ useful information on whether or not such activities were even _allowed_ , let alone _possible_. Were the going to be consequences? Did they need to take any extra precautions? How did he even retain a sex drive with no functioning organs? Obviously, Beej wasn’t shy about getting a little frisky with her, but was it done through some sort of non-biological means?

Over-thinking about such things were probably why she hadn’t slept in the past 24 hours.

Holidae halfheartedly pushed the broom around the outdoor deck, trying to gather the fallen leaves into a pile. A sudden breeze kicked up some fallen foliage, disrupting the progress she had made in sweeping the porch clear of debris. Groaning, she knelt down and picked up one of the leaves, glaring at it as though it were the sole cause of her internal torments.

“Why must you taunt me, huh? I just get this all clear and pretty and moderately balanced in some semblance of external harmony. And now you ruin it so casually?” She tossed the leaf into the small pile she had gathered with a huff.

Not wanting to be deterred from her task, she slipped her phone from her back pocket, queuing up some music to break up the silence of the outdoors. Once she found something suitable, she placed the phone on the nearby lawn chair, turning up the volume.

It was a bouncy tune; one that made it impossible not to add a few extra flourishes to her broom strokes, sweeping along to the rhythm. Before long, all intentions of actually cleaning had ceased, and Holidae was far more concerned with pulling off fantastic moves with her dance partner. For a broom, it was surprisingly limber as she swung her arms wide, twirling in some bastardized ballroom number created just for this occasion. _Waltz for an autumn cleaning spree._

“You’re making a mess.” A familiar, gravel laden voice cut over the music.

Holidae looked around wildly, clutching the broom to her chest in surprise, noticing the ghost casually lounging on the lawn chair. He held her phone in one hand, scrolling idly; a half-finished cigarette burning in the other.

“Holly-baby, you’ve been holding out on me. All these cute underwear pics… and you never bothered to share? I’m hurt. Who’s been seeing these if not _me_?” Beetlejuice waves the phone around for emphasis. “Do I need to remove some dude’s eyeballs now?”

Her face cherry-red, she marched over and snatched the phone away, “Hey, that’s private stuff, jerkass.”

Upon inspection, the phone was set on the lock screen, meaning he _hadn’t_ been browsing her private photos as he had claimed. Beej sat up with interest, laughing at her panicked state.

“Ah-ha! So you _do_ have sexy pictures on that thing. Give it here… don’t you know sharing is caring?” He held out his hand impatiently. “Call it a sneak preview.”

Holidae shoved the phone into her pocket, “Whether or not such pictures exist is none of your concern. And please don’t go around removing eyeballs. Or at least don’t tell me about it. I don’t want to be complicit.”

“It’s _very_ much my concern, babes. I should be the only one getting the honor of seeing _every bit_ of you from now on. But fine, I will keep you out of my eyeball collection.” Beej reached up, hooking a finger through the belt loop of her jeans, tugging playfully. “So, Cinderella, you done playing housekeeper? I could always get you a little maid outfit for authenticity.”

“Well, technically I’m done, but there’s always- _eep_!” Holidae was cut off, having been picked up and thrown over Beetlejuice’s shoulder like a sack of flour. “Put me down! This is undignified!”

Beetlejuice ignored her struggling, humming a nonsense tune as he glided through the house, heading up the stairs. Holidae kicked her feet in protest, stringing a few _choice_ words together as she was carried around with little effort. One of her kicks landed dangerously close to a rather _sensitive_ area below his belt, earning her a sharp smack across her backside.

“ **Ow**. Fuck you!” She hissed, gripping his coat as he floated up the stairs. “I don’t like this one bit! Put me down or I’ll kick you again, and I won’t _miss_.”

Undeterred by her protesting, the ghost continued all the way into the attic, unceremoniously depositing her on the ratty sofa; having been folded up at some point. She sank into the half-stuffed cushions, propping herself against the arm of the sofa, angrily scrunching herself as far into the corner as she could fit. The ghost settled himself into the opposite corner, amused with how flustered he had made her in such a short time.

“Holli~” Beetlejuice was purring deep in his throat, “Babydoll, look at me.”

“No,” Holidae kicked at him with her feet.

He chuckled, “C’mon. Look, I’ll apologize if you just look at me. I don’t say sorry often, so I think you should take advantage of this opportunity. Look look look…”

With a heavy sigh and a roll of her eyes, Holidae turned to look at him, “You are such a pain in the- **_JESUS CHRIST_**.”

Beetlejuice was sitting with one leg folded over the other, his arm draped across the back of the sofa. A perfectly normal pose… save for the fact he was _stark naked_. His pale coloring covered his entire body; the bits of green-tinted mold dotting various parts of him. A thin smattering of chest hair - green of course, matching his hair - made a trail down his pudgy stomach, the rest hidden by his crossed leg. She could only _assume_ that all of his hair sported the same color-changing hue, but wasn’t about to _ask_. The only thing really out of place about him was the fact there was a brutal looking scar in between two of his ribs.

Holidae stared, slack jawed like a fish, unable to look away for _far too long;_ desperately keeping her eyes locked onto his face. Beej waggled his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, gesturing over himself with his free hand.

“I’m sorry I made you undignified or whatever.” He attempted a sorry look, “I take it you like what you see? All this can be yours~ _whenever_ you want. As an apology.”

“I… I can’t look anywhere but your face.” Holidae stuttered, a flush of color spreading out from her nose across her cheeks. “P-Please put on pants. At _least_ pants.”

The ghost mumbled disapprovingly, but complied with her request to a degree; a pair of boxer shorts covering the most scandalous bits of him for the moment. Breathing a sigh of relief, Holidae allowed herself to relax against the arm of the sofa, running a hand through her hair as she gave him a better look-over this time.

“Ah, good, my plan worked.” Beej crawled over to her side of the sofa, squishing her playfully between his body and the cushions.

Holidae head-butted him, “The plan to embarrass me to death?”

He shook his head, conveniently resting his face on her chest, “My ice-breaker. _Getting naked_. You ever heard of that old thing where if you’re awkward about something, you picture people naked? I cut out the middleman. You’ve now seen me naked, so it you won’t be embarrassed about later, and now we just gotta work on getting _you_ naked.”

“That’s an ice-breaker to you? That’s… that’s like final step territory. What kind of person just immediately disrobes like that? Okay, well, not everyone can just _magic_ their clothes away like you, but it’s the point.” She pouted, brushing through the shorter hairs at the nape of his neck with her fingers.

“…hookers?” He offered, taking a moment to adjust her legs so he was between them, using her body as furniture instead of the sofa.

“Ah, good point, but you don’t strike me as a street walker.” Her skin grew warm under her sweatshirt, fully processing the _mostly_ naked man lounging with her. “Even then I think there’s a least a few minutes beforehand where it’s all business transaction talk. So, being naked _immediately_ is optional. Plus, what if the client wants to keep their clothes on? There’s too many _variables_ , Juice. Did you even account for activities that don’t require disrobing at all?”

Holidae realized she was rambling, her nerves having set her brain on fast-talking auto pilot to cover the fact she was stalling the whole situation with him. She glanced down, finding herself face to face with a pair of molten gold eyes, practically glowing in the sunlight in the attic window. It was so easy to forget how inhuman he was; things like that were a stark reminder.

Beetlejuice had a lazy grin on his face, a few sharp teeth peeking out from the corner of his mouth, content with watching the breather talk circles around him.

Not _the_ breather. _His_ breather.

As much as she tried to ignore him, or refuse his playful offers, he could see it in her face as she stared back at him. Who else would let him lie around like this? Who else would validate his need for constant attention without even realizing she was doing it? This was **not** a bestest best friend: he already _had_ one of those.

This was a _Holidae_ : and he only _wanted_ one of those.

Before he could utter so much as a snarky quip, her hands grabbed the sides of his face, pulling him close, and she closed the gap between them with a kiss. 


	14. (13.2) - In Which We Bask in the Company of Wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2
> 
> Spicy content~

As quick as it had happened, the kiss was broken.

Holidae shrunk back against the arm of the sofa, her bottom lip trembling as though she were about to cry, her fingers falling away from his face and picking at the collar of her sweatshirt anxiously, “I… I d-didn’t… oh that was bad, wasn’t it? I’m sorry. I should have… asked? Or… something… right?”

Much as he liked to brag about his skills at being a full-blown pathological liar, Beetlejuice was actually _terrible_ at hiding his expressions when he was caught off guard. Not many people had been able to surprise him: after being around so long, you start to pick up on common things between humans, little nuances that they all shared in one form or another. Even though he lacked the ability to blush, it was easy to tell he _was_ blushing; the wide, doe-like expression etched into every inch of his face.

She had _pulled him to her_.

There wasn’t malice behind her touch; no dragging him kicking and screaming around by his tie or coat lapels. Being shoved away in anger or irritation? He had grown numb to that sort of reaction to his closeness, figuring any sort of attention was better than none at all.

But _this?_ Holidae had willingly allowed - **wanted** \- him near her.

Although, by the look on her face, this situation was not going the way he had expected it to go after she made the first move. This was something that needed to be fixed _now_. His internal insecurities could wait.

“Whoa… hey hey now, what do you have to be sorry for?” Beej took hold of her jaw, squeezing it to encourage stillness. “I’m pretty damn sure I’ve made it _more than clear_ that this - you and me - is something I want. Like. _Yesterday_. You could pretty much do _anything_ you wanted to me and I would be more than happy to let you. …actually the thought of that is like _ridiculously hot_.”

The was a noticeable pause as he stopped to focus on the image appearing in his mind: Holidae looming over him in a skintight vinyl getup, one foot pressed against his back to keep him on all fours. Clearing his throat, he made a mental note to suggest that idea for another time. Holidae, not being able to see what was brewing in that mind of his, took his silence for comical effect.

She allowed herself some quiet laughter, “Oh? Just how often have you thought about you and me, huh? Should I be concerned? What if it’s not as good as you expect?”

He shook his head, subtly moving himself further up her body, easing the sudden pressure underneath his boxers. Those near-glowing eyes of his were trained directly on her face, watching for any change in her expression as he slipped his hands under her sweatshirt. Her skin was so damn _warm;_ and he took it as a positive sign to continue his exploration, wanting to know just how _hot_ he could make her become.

“Impossible. But the only way to prove my certainty is to test my logic over and over… you’ll be a _good girl_ and help me with that, won’t you? No fun alone.” Beej was growling low in his throat, lulling her into a daze the way a serpent would its prey.

Holidae’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, her muscles twitching with every new point of contact between his hands and her skin. Her brain felt fuzzy as she listened to him, each syllable gliding over her body like smoke. When did it become so hot in the attic? His skin was almost biting cold against her stomach, feeling his sharp claws trace the line underneath her bra.

“…you’re right, it’s no fun alone.” She mumbled, the _wanton_ tone in her voice sounding so foreign. “I can be a _very_ good girl if you let me.”

Just like that, Beetlejuice’s demeanor shifted into something wholly more predatory. There was no subtlety to his movement as he crushed her against his larger form, covering her mouth with her own. Holidae could feel her heart pounding against her rib cage when he roughly pushed her against the arm of the sofa, his nails digging sharply into the flesh on either side of her body. It felt like she had been ‘nicked by razors, stinging as she felt him drag his hands down her body, but in spite of herself… she _liked_ it.

Breathless, she managed to dislodge the two of them from each other, gasping for air as he pulled her sweatshirt up and off of her body.

“I’ve thought about this, ya know. A _lot_.” He grinned wolfishly, showing rows of sharpened teeth. “But I gotta wonder if _you_ ever did the same.”

Her hands wandered down the side of his torso, holding him at bay for a few moments while he sat up between her legs, “Oh… once or twice… I suppose. It might have crossed my mind.”

“You are the _worst_ liar, babes,” He chuckled, leaning back to let her explore as she pleased. “I bet you had some late nights… laying in that bed of yours and thinking about me. All the things I could _do_ to you.”

Holidae stared unabashedly at him, her hands immediately busying themselves with exploring the soft planes of his chest, taking note of each little imperfection. He wasn’t lean by any standard, but she knew how strong he was; his general frame was stocky, there was a bit of muscle definition to be seen, but there were more areas where he was filled out.

There was a moment where he moved his body away from her touches; when she got too near the scar, ugly and prominently on display. Wisely, she stayed away from that spot for now, her hands settling on a spot just above his hips, squeezing the flesh softly.

“You look like you wanna _eat_ me, Holly-baby,” Beetlejuice laughed, falling backward onto the sofa and pulling her on top of him.

“Maybe I do,” Holidae’s voice was husky and deep, the adjusted positions allowing her to feel the rather _large_ bulge he was sporting now. “Would you really just let me devour you?”

“There’s nothing stopping you. I’m at your mercy, completely helpless in your sexy grasp.” He chuckled, unhooking her bra with precision. “I’m a tough guy, I can take what you dish out.”

She rolled her eyes, straddling him for balance as she sat up and tossed the undergarment in a pile with her sweater, “Well, if you’re going to be so damn romantic about it, how can I resist?”

Beej’s hand traveled up her left side, tracing the claw marks he had made all the way up to her breast. Her face grew warm in a blush that trickled down to her neck as he idly massaged her chest before sitting upright himself, the movement shifting their hips together, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the girl on top of him.

Humming in approval, the ghost leaned forward and buried his face against the crook of her neck, catching a bit of skin between his teeth. Holidae shivered, lolling her head to the side to allow him room to do as he pleased, tangling her hands in his hair. She could feel the groan he let out against her body, and she rewarded him with a soft tug on his pink-tinted locks.

Beej lavished open-mouthed kisses along her throat, his long tongue flicking at her pulse point, “Why are you so damn quiet? Didn’t peg you for the hush-hush quickie type of girl.”

“Quiet?” Holidae sounded breathy, lulled into laziness by his – _surprisingly_ – gentle attention.

“Figured you’d be louder. Vocal. I wanna hear that pretty voice tear itself apart for me,” He mumbled against her skin, “We’re _alone_ up here, babycakes. I’m gonna make you _scream_.”

She tugged on his hair sharply, enjoy the hissing gasp that came out of him, “Maybe this just isn’t doing it for me, _Lawrence_.”

He groaned loudly, bucking his hips up against her, “ _The fuck it isn’t.”_

With effort, he pulled himself away from her, just long enough to snap his fingers at divest them both of their remaining clothing. Holidae wasn’t expecting the sudden nakedness, feeling the blush return to her face, a sudden spark of arousal prickling down her skin and sinking into her stomach. The girl was no virgin, but her sexual encounters were few and far between. She turned her head away from him, feeling not just nude, but _bare_ all of a sudden.

Her arms started to fold across her chest, subtly covering herself, but he moved lightening fast to pull her arms away from her body.

“Nope, nope we are not gonna have _any_ of that shit going on; I have spent too many hours thinking about these tits to just _not appreciate them_.” Beetlejuice huffed, “Ya get me?”

Holidae nodded, giving a surprised squeak as he rolled the two of them over on the sofa with ease. The furniture creaked loudly in protest, fitting itself to her body shape on the cushions.

Beetlejuice settled himself on top of her, running his hand in a slow path between their bodies, “Oooooh you _lied_ to me, Holidae. Not doing anything for you, eh? You’re goddamn _scorching_. And fucking _soaked_. Right _here_.”

His hand pushed deliberately between her legs, his clawed fingers stroking her without shame or hesitation. Holidae turned her face to the side, trying to muffle the sounds that welled up in her throat, rolling her hips toward his hand. Beej took his free hand and grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look up at him, subtly pressing his hardened cock against her thigh.

“ _Noooo_ ,” He leaned down and kissed her, his fingers pushing past her folds and deeper into her with ease. “I want to hear _every_ sound you make because of me.”

Another jolt of arousal swept through her; brought to life by the roughness of his movement inside her, and the slight apprehension she felt whenever he put his hands near her neck. She knew those hands could have snapped her neck long ago – _they still could_ – and the fear of it only seemed to heighten the sensations running through her body.

Holidae gave in to Beetlejuice’s request, a soft cry finally releasing itself into the quiet space around them. He rewarded her with another kiss, trailing his lips down to her jaw, and giving a bite to the tender skin. After a bit he slipped his fingers out of her wetness, adjusting her legs apart wide enough for him to move between, using his body to move her hips closer to his own. Grinning wide, he licked his fingers slowly… _deliberately_ showing her his unnatural tongue as it moved between each digit, licking up every last drop of her.

It was embarrassing how much she was trembling against his body; how much she _wanted_ him. He didn’t make her wait long, slowly positioning his cock right at her entrance. She _knew_ that despite how wet she had become, it wasn’t going to be enough to make this a painless encounter. What worried her more than the fear of discomfort was how much she _wanted it to hurt_. All she wanted was to feel him inside her, to be completely at his mercy.

It was **wrong**.

_Wasn’t it?_

“Be a good girl and let me _hear you,_ Holidae.” He whispered, snapping his hips forward and thrusting into her _hard._

A shout tore itself from her throat, and her head pressed back against the sofa, her body arching up into his chest. Beej couldn’t hide his utter _excitement_ at hearing her scream for him - _because_ of him. A small voice in the back of his mind told him to hold still, however, knowing he might have gone a little _too_ rough for their first time together.

“If… if you don’t start moving… I’ll exorcise you _myself_.” Holidae’s command was heavy with lust, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him in _deeper_.

Beetlejuice groaned loudly next to her ear, pulling out nearly all the way before thrusting back into her even harder. He set a rough, but steady, pace; keeping their bodies as close as he could manage as though he were afraid to let go of her. Holidae locked her legs around him, mimicking the harshness of his movement against her, meeting him thrust for thrust once she found his rhythm.

Her hands found their way into his hair, and she pulled him in for a deep kiss, moaning against his mouth. She knew she wouldn’t last much longer if he kept at it the way he was, already feeling the muscles in her abdomen coiling tightly like a spring. He didn’t seem in better condition, his thrusts becoming a little more erratic and shallow.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Beej mumbled to himself more than her, concentration etched on his features, slowing down his pace. “Goddamn, Holly… If I would’a _known… I would have fucked you in the graveyard that day._ All mine now… all _mine.”_

He looked so disheveled above her; his hair sticking to the damp skin on his forehead above his brow, muscles stiff as he struggled to keep control of himself. Just seeing him like that _– knowing that she had a hand in it_ – was enough to finally tip Holidae over the edge she was desperate to reach. She cried out his name in a sharp sound, voice cracking in a way that surprised her.

It was a desperate, _wanting_ sound.

Almost _helpless_.

Sounds that were far more primal – _predatory_ – came out of him and he sunk his teeth into the junction of her neck and shoulder. She _knew_ he had pierced the skin, a small drop of blood running down her collarbone as he pulled away. Her body shuddered deeply around him, riding out wave after wave of pleasure until they begun to subside; her skin feeling as though she had been doused in ice water despite how hot she was to the touch.

Beetlejuice had slowed himself down during the height of her release, but resumed his brutal pace shortly after. He was almost frantic in those last moments, mumbling words she couldn’t make out against her skin, squeezing her impossibly tight as he finally spilled into her with few erratic thrusts. Holidae moaned softly, feeling impossibly full of him in that moment, holding him tight against her body as though he would vanish if she let go for an instant.

For what seemed like hours, neither of them moved.

Beej was the first to break their contact, slowly easing off of her and sitting himself up on the sofa next to her, brushing his damp hair away from his forehead. Conjuring his favored cigarettes, he deeply inhaled the smoke, letting it seep out of his mouth like a contented dragon. Holidae shivered, feeling the cool air against the thin layer of sweat upon her skin, her body screaming with aches she hadn’t felt in a _long_ time.

She was unnerved by his silence, having expected him to make some lewd comment about his own performance, or hers. Was she expected to leave after a certain period of time? Slink back to her room down the stairs and not speak of the encounter again? Her previous partners had not been the most affectionate after sex, and she harbored no illusions of a demon like him being any different.

Holidae began slowly easing herself up to sitting, her body protesting with even the smallest movement.

Immediately, an arm reached out and dragged her over to lay against his side, “Going somewhere, my little breather?”

She felt insanely embarrassed now, “You weren’t talking to me, so I assumed-.”

“I’m fucking _worn out_ because of you _,_ baby, you gotta give me a minute. Take it as a compliment.” He huffed, shifting himself up to rest his chin on the top of her head, holding the cigarette between his teeth.

“ _Oh,_ ” Holidae eased herself against his body, willing herself to relax into the sudden affectionate gesture.

“Lemme just tell you: _worth the wait_. Have to savor it for a while, you know? Plus, I’m hardly the type to kick a little hellcat like you out of bed. I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I pulled shit like that.” He laughed, drawing nonsensical shapes on her back with his fingers.

“So you want me here to save your gentlemanly reputation?” The pout was clear in her voice.

“ _No_ , I want you here because I just _do._ ” His fingers stopped moving, his hand flattening out against her skin, “Is that a problem?”

Holidae shook her head, “No, I’m just surprised.”

“Mmm, had me worried there for a second.” Beetlejuice hummed in the back of his throat, “You’re mine now, and I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“Oh, well, in that case I suppose I should stay.” She replied softly. “I won’t go anywhere.”

There was a very long silence that followed, and she had thought he’d fallen asleep in the wake of his exhaustion, like she was tempted to do herself.

Before she gave into the gentle pull of sleep, Beej’s voice broke through the quiet, _“No, you **won’t**.”_


	15. In Which Blood is Thicker

Sleeping next to a breather was not what he expected.

He had watched those television comedies with Lydia often enough to know that sometimes breathers were not _put-together_ in the mornings. Usually some mishap involving children or in-laws causing some situation with comedic timing and slapstick. Occasionally, Lyds would torture him with feature length romantic comedies. Beej would squirm around on the sofa, making retching noises whenever things got too sappy, all in hopes of making his bestest best friend laugh.

Of course, he would never tell her that he would watch those same movies by himself when no one was home. What could he say? He was a sap. Besides, some of what he learned from those films had come in handy when trying to win over Holidae.

Those stupid movies never told him what to do _afterwards_.

Beej stared down at her, hovering just a few inches above her sleeping form, tilting his head this way and that. He had taken the liberty of extending the fold out sofa before they were ready to settle down, knowing that she didn’t have the ability to just… _be comfortable_ like he could. Holidae was in a deep sleep by the looks of it; her body contorted awkwardly, her top half twisted one way and her bottom half facing the opposite direction. One arm was up by her head, the other draped over her stomach, and the blanket he procured for her was tangled between her legs.

Occasionally, she would take a deep inhale through her nose, shifting herself into some other odd position before calming back down. Six times in the past four hours… he _counted_.

Beetlejuice reached down, flicking some stray hair away from her neck, seeing the dark, angry bite he had given her during a heated moment. The contrast against her pale skin was so stark, a reminder of how fragile humans really were when they were still alive. He made a mental note to mark her up more when she was healed; he wanted her to be reminded of him, not to think he was _mean_.

A small twitch of her skin caught his eye; the steady pattern of her heartbeat, prominently displayed through her veins. He placed two fingers against her neck, like he’d seen in Lydia’s beloved medical dramas, surprised at how strong it was against the pads of his fingertips.

After a few moments, he placed his fingers against his own neck… and _frowned,_ dragging his claws down his skin in frustration.

Holidae was shifting again, turning her body fully towards the center of the bed, so he slipped into bed beside her just in time for her arm to slide over to rest in the middle of his chest. Her warm touch made him shiver, ironic as it was, and he carefully pulled her in closer to get as much of that warm feeling as possible. A couple of extra spectral limbs helped him accomplish that, moving different parts of her body subtly as to not wake her up just yet.

With a small noise, she snugged herself between the bed and his soft body, blindly reaching down to pull the blanket up to cover the both of them. It was such an innocuous gesture, but it was a gesture the ghost was not used to receiving, and he froze in place while she adjusted herself.

Instead of shying away from his cold aura, she took it upon herself - _whether or not she was awake to realize it-_ to try and get him warmer. What did it mean that even in the midst of a dead sleep she’d rather stay beside him than seek her own comfort? Maybe nothing. He knew he had a penchant for taking things a little too literally; seeing hidden meanings in things that weren’t actually there. This could have been one of those times, and Holidae was just acting out of reflex of his body temperature.

If that were the case… _nah_. Better to not start dwelling on the negative.

Beetlejuice maneuvered his way down the mattress, his extra limbs keep her still until he found the spot he wanted; his slightly pointed ear pressed just below her collarbone. It came with the added benefit of his head tucked against her bare chest, but that was just a _bonus_. Her **heartbeat** was what he was after.

If asked, he could never really explain his fascination with a breather’s heartbeat. It seemed like a troublesome thing to own; all kinds of things could speed it up, slow it down, stop it entirely. _Brittle_. _Delicious_ , according to some denizens of the Neitherworld he had acquainted himself with, but he hadn’t personally partaken in that rare treat… yet. Not that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind over the decades.

What would his breather’s heart taste like? Would it be sweet like her skin? Sour? Bitter or savory? Would it be soft, or gamey between his teeth as he slowly gnawed on each sinew and muscle? What would his precious Holli look like bereft of life? He certainly considered her good-looking, but _oh_ how lovely would she be with her serene, sleeping face drained of all color? Her chest **lovingly** split open _just enough_ to reach through and steal her heart away? It _had_ been a long time since he snuffed out a human’s life… was it a skill that grew rusty with disuse?

Carefully, with the utmost delicacy he could manage from his position, he pressed the tip of his claw into her sternum. A small drop of blood welled up… and then a line of it as he dragged it down her skin in a smooth trail. He reached just below the curve of her breasts before he felt her moving and _froze_ , snapping out of… _whatever_ that had been.

Holidae’s arms wrapped around his head, and he could feel her nuzzling into the fluff of hair upon his head. Beej took an edge of the blanket and pressed it against her chest, dabbing the blood away as quickly as he had made it appear.

“…wake?” Holidae mumbled into his hair, yawning heavily.

“A little, but you can keep sleeping.” All of his violent thoughts were melting away in moments, replaced by the feeling of her leg moving itself up and over the swell of his hip. “Or did you have something else in mind, my little Holly-Jolly?”

“…why do you have so many arms?” Holidae lifted her head up, blinking sleepily and trying to wrap herself around him tightly. “I don’t have enough.”

Ah, she wasn’t _exactly_ awake from her nonsense muttering, but he was surprisingly content to forego round two of their playtime for now. She was trying her best to match his hold on her, so he dismissed the extra limbs in order to keep her from getting too anxious. Holidae eased her arms from around his head, choosing to bury her hands in his hair instead.

“I like the amount of limbs you have,” Beej mumbled, near _purring_ like great beast.

Holidae started giggling quietly, trying to muffle the noise in the crook of her arm. Beetlejuice lifted his head, one eyebrow quirked in confusion as he stared up at her, watching her shake with laughter.

“You like my limbs~” Holidae cackling now, “My limbs are _me_. You like _me_ ~ You think I’m _sexy_ ~”


	16. In Which the Future Doesn't Exist

It would be another few hours before Holidae gathered enough energy to pry herself away from the ghost’s hold on her; muscles and joints popping with effort as she sat up.

The discomfort had nothing to do with their _activities_ , but everything to do with the fact he slept on a past its prime sofa bed. The rusty springs creaked loudly as she swung her legs over the side, causing her to wince at the sudden _noise_ , and turn to check on her companion. He didn’t seem bothered; laid out flat on his stomach completely naked, but not moving around as though he had woken up. Admittedly, it wasn’t the most graceful pose he could have adopted, but it was entertaining to see him stark naked without a care in the world.

Did he even need to sleep, or was it just a habit to act that way around other people?

The sight of him so… _vulnerable_ almost made her rethink her plans, wanting to just crawl back into bed and stay there for the rest of the weekend. However, the dried blood on her shoulder and other… _fluids_ that had dried on her skin were not the most pleasant sensations for long periods of time. A shower was her goal for that morning, and then maybe she could treat herself to sleeping longer in her comfortable, soft bed.

Holidae gathered her clothes from the floor, tiptoeing across the room and down the stairs in the bright light of the late morning. Since no one else was home, she decided to have a little fun and commandeer the Deetz’s master bathroom, as it was the fanciest in the house. It had been recently refurbished, she had been told, with a double-length walk-in shower with multiple faucets. Not that she _needed_ anything more than a basic bathtub on any given day, but it was nice to take advantage of the luxury while it was available.

Turning on the showerheads, she waited for the water to warm up a little, examining herself in the nearby vanity mirror. The bite on her shoulder _looked_ nastier than it felt, but there were clear rows of teeth visible underneath the initial bruising. Luckily, it wouldn’t be difficult to hide it under sweaters and coats for the winter season. She gently ran her fingertips around each small puncture, her face growing red at the memory of them being so _close_ in that moment.

Holidae stepped into the shower, carefully closing the clear glass door behind her, hissing as the warm water soaked into her aching body. It was such a delightful sensation; she closed her eyes and let the water run over her face and hair, eager to relax after such anxiety the night before. The more she thought about it, the more she felt silly for thinking the worst of him. Of course, the standard image of all demon creatures were ones of vile, nasty beasts hellbent on snatching the soul of the unsuspecting human. The thought always stayed in the back of her mind, but she never let it grow any larger than a passing notion.

She doubted he would go to do much trouble for her soul anyway. Probably wasn’t worth much.

_Tap_  
Tap  
Tap

The sound of a nail on glass caught her attention, and her head snapped around to the shower door, her hands grasping the safety bar to keep herself from slipping. There, pressed comically against the glass - _still naked_ \- was Beetlejuice, who smiled widely when he got her attention. Instinctively, Holidae tried to cover her more _intimate_ parts, her whole body flushing red from the heat of the water and the embarrassment at being so startled.

“Hey babes~” He chuckled, squishing his face against the door. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I could’ve missed the floorshow! Awww, don’t cover up like that… it’s nothing I haven’t _seen_. _Licked. Stuck my-_ ”

She chucked a wet washcloth at his face, watching it slide down the glass a bit before hitting the ground, “What the hell are you scaring me like that for? I could have cracked my head open and _died_.”

“Well, then, it would have been lucky for you since I’m an expert at handling the newly-dead.” Beej stuck his lengthy tongue out, licking the glass in an obscene manner.

“Ew! Don’t… don’t lick that! You don’t know what’s on there!” Horrified, she tapped on the glass by his face, “Germs!”

Beetlejuice gave her a _look_ before putting his whole mouth on the door, looking like one of those sucker fish on the walls of fish tanks. Holidae squealed in disgust, opening the door and pulling him inside the large shower space with her, pushing him under the spray of one of the water jets. Within moments, he looked like sopping, wet _mess_. His hair, normally tamed in a _care-but-don’t-care_ fashion was plastered against his skull, the length covering the points of his ears and blocking out his eyesight. It was funny to see just _how long_ his hair was without the signature fluffed appearance.

With a grumble, he jerked his head back, successfully moving his hair out of his face and splashing the whole of the shower space like an unhappy dog.

“… _Holli-baby_. Holly-Jolly. Babycakes. Babydoll. _I’m dead.”_ Beetlejuice tilted his head to the side sharply, “I can’t get germs.”

She mirrored his expression, “The fine layer of dirt and mold you’re sporting on your birthday suit would suggest otherwise, _Juice_.”

He waved his hands dismissively, “It’s part of the package. Didn’t hear you complainin’ about germs when you were smothering me in the middle of the night. You were all arms and legs like a squid.”

Holidae grabbed the washcloth off the floor, lathering it up with a nearby bar of soap, “Me? _I’m_ the squid?”

Beej made a show of sitting down on… nothing. There were no built-in benches or anything in the shower stall, but his body still conformed to the shape of sitting on a chair. Ignoring him, Holidae busied herself with gently cleaning around her shoulder, wincing at the sting of the soap, but managing to navigate the tricky path of irritated nerves. All the while, Beetlejuice remained silent, content in the fact she hadn’t gotten too angry at him for invading her private time. In truth, he would have been happy to be _outside_ of the shower door, as was his original plan… but he didn’t mind the change of location.

Besides, he was _not_ about to argue the _amazing_ view he was getting of his breather soaping herself up. He knew for a _fact_ that he hadn’t done anything to deserve such a treat.

Once she was finished, Holidae rinsed out the washcloth thoroughly, turning around and holding it out for him to use.

“…you can’t hang it up yourself?” He asked, confused by her gesture.

“Huh? No, you can _use_ it. You know… for… washing up?” She sighed heavily, “Don’t. Don’t even say it. I _know_ you claim not to be dirty and stuff but there’s nothing wrong with smelling like soap for a while.”

He hesitated, watching her with a raised eyebrow, “You gonna help me get the hard to reach places?”

“ _No_.” Holidae’s tone was deadpanned to match her expression. “ _But_ I will let you sleep in my bed.”

Not wanting to push his luck, Beej reached out to take the washcloth, but stopped and wrapped his hand around her wrist instead. It was a quick, snappy action; like a snake darting out to catch a mouse. Startled, Holidae instinctively tried to pull her arm out of his iron grip, unsure of what he planned to do with the appendage. Keeping her in place, Beetlejuice tilted his head, inspecting the skin of her arm with a quizzical look. Thin, pale white stripes lined the surface area between her mid-arm and her elbow; some crisscrossing each other without a pattern.

“Lose a fight with a weed whacker?” The ghost let her arm go, taking the soap in hand, and attempting to make himself as clean as he could to her standards.

A muscle twitched in the corner of Holidae’s eye, “Used to have a cat.”

Slowly, he turned his full attention to her, the strange tone in her voice contradicting the perfectly reasonable answer she provided. It was… flat. _Dull_ , but instantly falling out of her mouth like it was a programmed response.

_Rehearsed._

“Tch, nasty _cat_.” He replied, giving his cleanliness the attention it needed.

The rest of their shower was spent in peace, Beej offering a slew of lewd jokes and breaking the tension between them almost immediately. He refused to let her dry herself off, stating it was his _solemn duty_ to make sure she was dried enough to not slip on the tile flooring. Of course, he concentrated his efforts everywhere _but_ her feet, causing Holidae to squirm away when the fibers hit the more ticklish parts of her.

By the time they managed to make their way into Holidae’s room, it was getting closer to sunset. She knew it was a bad idea in the long run, but Holidae couldn’t be bothered to make her way downstairs to find something to eat. The allure spending more comfortable hours in bed with her ghostly paramour was too tempting to ignore.

Beetlejuice was already settled in her bed, lounging in the “sexiest” way he could, fully nude with only part of a bedsheet draped across his thigh, “What’re you doing over there? Don’t get _dressed_! You’ve got all this sexiness waiting here just waiting for you to ravish it. I’m helpless, Holly-Jolly, powerless to stop you from devouring my body like a fine cut of meat.”

Holidae popped her head out of the neck-hole of her sweatshirt, rolling her eyes at the display, “I dunno, that side of beef might be past its prime.”

“ _Uhhhhhggggg_ , you’re killing me, babes.” He rolled over, stuffing his face into the pillow dramatically.

With a soft sigh, she climbed into the bed next to him, holding her arms open toward him, “You’re already dead, Juice. Now come here and stop complaining.”

With a pointed and loud _huff_ , Beej wriggled his body over to her side of the bed, letting himself be enveloped by the warmth of her body and the softness of her sweatshirt. It wasn’t too long before he could hear her soft heartbeats within her chest, her breathing slowing to a crawl as she drifted off to sleep. He mind wasn’t about to let him relax along with her, far too preoccupied with their awkward exchange in the shower.

He made a mental note to ask Lydia about the _cat_.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! It's been a hot minute since I felt the urge to post fanfic, and this fandom has gotten my creative juices (no pun intended) flowing again. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 
> 
> Feel free to come say hello on my tumblr where this fic is crossposted: vicunaburger.tumblr.com
> 
> Much Obliged, 
> 
> EmberFluff (Vicuna)


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